Cleaning Countdown

I've begun work on one of my primary retirement goals. In Sweden, they call it "death cleaning."

At first that may sound a bit grim, but when you reflect a while it makes perfect sense. You don't want your children/heirs to be stuck rummaging through all your collected garbage (that's what most of it will be to them). I know this for a fact, because my siblings and I had to clean out more than 70 years of accumulated belongings that my dear mother left behind.

I called my mother's desk "the land that time forgot." I found drapery receipts from 1948, memorial prayer cards going back to the 1930s, canceled checks that were 50 years old. In her later years, Mom had become so fearful of identity theft that she refused to throw out a single piece of mail. For more than two decades, she stuffed all her mail into plastic grocery bags that were so tightly knotted I needed scissors to open them. She had shoved all the bags underneath her queen-sized bed. Every square inch of underbed flooring was jammed with mail bags; you could have removed the boxspring and the mattress wouldn't have descended an inch.

Friends would often suggest just throwing out the bags without opening them. But there was the occasional stock certificate nestled in the midst of junk mail, necessitating my going through all paper--which included completely impersonal flyers for the HOA's Fourth of July picnic 20 years before. (Why, Mom?? Why??)

I remember actually talking to her in the midst of this many days-long task, asking "Who did you think was going to clean up this mess, Mom?" If God allows me enough time, I'm determined to prevent my kids from voicing similar frustrations over my detritus.

Therefore, I've begun my death cleaning with timid, tentative steps. The mismatched Tupperware is gone, along with baby dishware that my pre-teen grandkids have many years outgrown. Gone, too, are Christmas decorations that haven't been touched in more than 20 years. Heaps of office clothing, untouched in retirement, are boxed up and ready for my next run. My local Goodwill store volunteers have recently been excited to see my car pull up.

I've started picking at the photos, but that's a gargantuan chore that will take months to organize. Meanwhile, I'll keep chipping away at closets and drawers. There are more than enough forgotten stray items that I've squirreled away to keep me motivated to fill my recycle bin. (For example, last week I found some 1980s thank-you notes from people I don't remember!) 

There is a light and airy feeling to this decluttering project. One caveat I've quickly learned is to set aside anything that tugs at heartstrings to keep for further consideration. The rest of the junk? Dump it! I'd prefer that my children not be left wondering "Why was Mom saving this?" Let the death cleaning continue, and hopefully I'll have a few years to enjoy my streamlined home.

Vanishing Heroes

When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun. 

~ William Shakespeare

Jim Lovell, the American astronaut made famous in the film Apollo 13, died earlier this month at age 97. He was the commander of the ill-fated Apollo 13 mission, played by Tom Hanks in the 1995 Ron Howard movie. Lovell's passing leaves us with one less hero of a golden era for my generation.

When I was a schoolgirl, the astronauts were akin to rock stars. Most children knew their names, their missions, and their successes and tragedies. Alan Shephard was the first American in space; John Glenn was the first American to orbit the earth. Virgil "Gus" Grissom was also an early astronaut , the second American in space, and I remember his capsule hatch had a serious problem upon splashdown. When Grissom died in the devasting fire on Apollo 1, I wondered if the faulty hatch had been an omen foreshadowing his tragic end.

While growing up, NASA launch days were memorable in my house. My mother never watched daytime television--except when a rocket was scheduled to launch. Then the TV would be on at dawn, the spacecraft that was filling the screen poised for takeoff. News anchors chattered in the background giving updates, and as I left for school it was such a rare sight to see Mom perched on the living room sofa, intently listening and watching the motionless rocket in anticipation of the countdown that would blast it off into space.

The days of the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo space programs were an exciting time to be an American. Today there are many who do not believe we landed on the moon. I wonder how they explain the visibility of all the "Earth trash" left behind by the astronauts? As for the safe return of Apollo 13 against all odds, that reality is impossible to deny. Called the "successful failure," that miracle mission was more scientifically challenging than a mere moon landing.

I'm grateful I grew up during that time of great pride in our country. The space programs united us with a sense of achievement and purpose and made us feel that for the United States, the sky was quite literally the limit. 

Instead of the News

Epstein files...Russiagate...runaway Texas Democrats...California crises...New York City communists...tariffs...wars, wars, "all over the place," as President Trump might say.

Are you as weary of the news as I am?

I find that I'm weaning myself away from straight news podcasts. Maybe I'm a tender soul (doubtful), but I just can't take it anymore. I probably was listening to too many shows in the first place, so this is a positive step.

But I needed to find some filler to keep me company while I'm driving, doing yardwork, folding laundry, cleaning the house, cooking, etc. Occasionally, depending on her topics, I'll tune in for The Nerve with Maureen Callahan. She delivers extensive celebrity gossip with quite tangy panache. If I get a couple of giggles from one of Maureen's podcasts--and I usually do--it's a win.

I've already recommended Battle Ready with Fr. Dan Reehil. He gets a few listens from me each week, always edifying. Also in the Catholic category, I recently discovered Beyond Saint hosted by Ira DeWitt. Depending upon her guest or topic, I'll dip in and always find it interesting.

This week I really scored when I found The Plot Thickens, a Hollywood podcast that goes in-depth on various stars, shows, and movies. The current season is immersed in the story of filming the Elizabeth Taylor/Richard Burton film Cleopatra, but for me that will have to wait. Being an I Love Lucy fanatic, I dove right into Season 3, which covers Lucille Ball's entire life story in juicy detail. I'm halfway through the episodes, and I'm enjoying every second

Enjoyment rarely ensues from listening to or watching the news. In today's hyper-connected world, we can't avoid hearing the news; we will be informed whether we want to be or not. But we don't need to dwell on it. I'm liking my new varied podcast lineup more by the minute. If you're a pod fan and haven't already done so, I recommend branching out. There's plenty to listen to instead of the news. As an added bonus, I usually end up learning something besides which politician flung a four-letter word today.