Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow – Part 2

As part of the grand renovation, I’m taking a long look at my possessions and (gasp) throwing things out. If I were better at thinking ahead or more planful, I would have consulted an Amazon or eBay expert months ago. If I had a car, I would be making many, many trips to the library or thrift shops. In the middle of Brooklyn, carless, branch library under construction, no thrift shops nearby, however, I’m simply pitching stuff out.

I have two choices – things my neighbors might use go out near the compacter shaft. Everything else goes out back. I was gratified to hear the sounds of a Mission oak dresser heading to a new home the other day. And the bags of books have been rummaged through. And usable clothing has moved on to some lucky individual in the building. This helps – I like thinking about my old things having a new life. And I don’t like waste, so the less that moves out to the sidewalk trash pick-up, the better.

My biggest decision was to reduce my library by at least 1/3. This has been painful. I treasure my books and almost every one has a story. How can I let them go?

First cut – books I can take to the local used book store and get actual cash and/or books I will give to friends and family. That sort was easy, because it’s an act of sharing. Betsy will love these mysteries. Allison will enjoy these vampire tales that just didn’t work for me. Loretta can make use of these professional books for her work library.

Second cut – old and useless. Some books are just old and not destined to become valuable antiques.  So, two history books that were written before 1900 and are in tatters are now – well, history. Women’s history books go next, except for a few classics. Psychology by unknowns pre-1970 is next. Pre-1990 management books, texts from courses I will never teach again, a German translation (no, I don’t read German) of a book I  have in English, a pile of supper-sappy novels that have absolutely no appeal – all these are easy.

Now we get to the harder stuff. Do I really need a whole shelf of plays from a Modern American Drama course taken in 1966? Will I really come home one evening with a burning desire to read Tiny Alice? OK. No. Out. 

Will I finally read Ulysses? Those biographies of Teddy Roosevelt? Julia Child? How many teach yourself Italian books do I need? Spanish? Will I re-live my Russian Lit. course? I wasn’t all that crazy about Anna Karenina the first time. Oblamov is going. War Tales. Crime and Punishment. Goodbye, all!

Jane Austen gets to stay; much of Steinbeck and Hemingway are going. 

This is hard. I still mourn the loss of a brown corduroy suit I gave away in 1969. But it’s necessary. And important. Streamlining the apartment helps to streamline my thinking. Casting off makes room for new things to come. 

Most of all, this is a great opportunity to look at what’s really important.

What’s important to you?