My Parent’s Clutter
Thinking fondly of the Canadian house I grew up in, I don’t remember there being too much clutter. It was mainly just my father’s workshop in the basement that was filled with tools, paint tins, and bits and bobs of gadgets he’d been working on. He was an engineer by trade, but an inventor/tinkerer by hobby.
After my father retired and tinkering became an everyday occurrence, things slowly crept into ALL areas of the basement - the laundry, his office and more recently into the pantry area. This is when it really started to concern me as it was now taking over my mother’s areas of the house and I didn’t think that was fair or safe. The last thing I wanted was for her to have to be reaching over things like boxed wood off-cuts and carpet remnants, simply to access a new packet of pasta, especially knowing that she has hip and back pain.
My mother loved my enthusiasm to sort through items with her, but she did not think I would be able to get through to my father about the very real need for decluttering the basement, even if I explained it from a safety perspective. After looking for a screwdriver in his workshop one day, I realised just how cluttered that room had become since I was a child and was now a tripping hazard for anyone entering. Large paint tins, empty plastic bottles, pieces of foam and conduit, you name it - it was there!
Knowing my father would be reluctant for me to rifle through his stuff, I knew I would have to start small. I got up earlier than him one morning and took it upon myself to reorganise his small workbench. The only things I threw out were bits of packaging. I put things away that had a proper home. And I simply tidied the rest, putting ‘like with like’ - nails, screws, elastic bands etc. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how he was going to react. Luckily, it was a mixture of happiness and shock. Happy that he could use the bench again, and shock that it only took me 30 minutes!
That was the catalyst I needed to get him to re-think his clutter. He let me clear out the laundry room and reorganise the items that were blocking the pantry. We did multiple trips to the tip, with the car packed to the brim each time. We also did 2 trips to the scrap metal yard and also posted some items for sale on-line. Needless to say, my mother was speechless at the transformation of the basement, and of her husband’s new way of thinking about his ‘stuff’.
But the kicker for both myself and my mother, was when my dad spent half a day, of his own accord, tidying up his office (of which I had made a conscious decision NOT to offer any suggestions or help, as I didn’t want to rock the boat, so to speak).
He literally made piles of bounded books and old papers to go to recycling (the books were so old and out of date that even our local library didn’t want them). He created so much paper for recycling that we had to divide it up each week for our weekly allotment. It was truly amazing.
Now he is grateful for reclaiming the space and feels a sense of pride in having accomplished what seemed like a monumental task. Slow and steady was how he needed to operate, he just required a gentle nudge to get started.
If my father can turn a new leaf, anyone can!
