Several of my relatives and friends are in the process of cleaning out a parent’s home. Some have tragically lost their aged parents, and some are rearranging living situations to accommodate medical needs. In each situation, however, there is an overwhelming factor: Each of them are dealing with a house stuffed with … stuff.
No one knows what most of this stuff is or why their parents have kept it all these years. While the adult children are trying to work through grief or the medical needs of their parents, their focus is blocked by piles of possessions. One of my elderly relatives had seven large dressers and desks lining the walls, each stuffed to the brim, in her bedroom alone. Another kept stacks of store receipts from the ’70s, graduation napkins, and untold totes of decorations stored away amongst torn old clothes and boxes of dishes. Another had four garbage bags’ worth of literal trash in a single TV cabinet, one of three identical cabinets in the room.
Suffice it to say, our Silent Generation senior citizens have a stuff problem. And unfortunately, it looks like the Baby Boomers might be following suit. There is a growing movement among retirees called “aging in place.”
Rather than planning to downsize, move in with relatives, or pursue assisted community living, many seniors are investing time and finances into house remodels. Specifically, these remodels focus on making a house wheelchair- and handicap-friendly so that retirees can plan to live out their sunset years in their current dwelling.
This is an understandable desire, of course, but desire does not equal reality. It is difficult and expensive for an aging owner to maintain a family-sized home, and neglected home maintenance has longer-reaching impacts on future generations. On top of that, aging in place also allows seniors to keep large collections of possessions, regardless of whether the clutter is treasured or ignored.
This begs the question, is it healthy for our elderly populations to cling tightly to individual home ownership?
In previous centuries, the elderly did not live alone, nor did they maintain large homes of their own. Instead, intergenerational living was common and practical. Another option was downsizing to smaller living quarters upon children growing up. (This, at least, is still seen today in some rural farmsteads: a retired parent lives in a trailer house near the family home, as a son/daughter takes over the farm and big family house.) Overall, though, history has never reflected today’s trend of senior couples/individuals affording an entire house to themselves. It is a luxury, to be sure! It also comes with unforeseen issues for wider society. Even if we put economical impacts aside, younger generations are paying a heavy price for their parents to live exactly how they want.
Larger-than-necessary homes have clearly become huge storage spaces. The lack of downsizing has created a massive burden on the adult children of senior citizens and created a “Sandwich Generation.” We as a society have an overwhelming number of senior citizens, all of whom deserve care and dignity in their final years. Unfortunately, supersize homes and a lifestyle of saving everything has gone uninterrupted, often for decades. Now, we are seeing this massive accumulation of stuff landing squarely on adult children’s shoulders. And it is a heavy one to bear.
Hoarding is harmful. It sounds harsh, and reality is harsh. Being overly attached to material goods, as well as failing to take responsibility for our own possessions, sets us up for a stressful and burdensome end-of-life stage. There can be many valid reasons why previous generations save and keep everything: frugality, physical disability, mobility issues, mental health issues, a generational mindset difference, etc. But in the end, the result is the same: Senior citizens are leaving houses full of moldering collections for their children to deal with.
How do we break this cycle?
Seniors are already working on it. The Stories We Leave Behind by Laura H. Gilbert approaches hoarding through a legacy mindset, shifting the approach from the stuff to memories. Instead of focusing on saving piles of items, she guides readers through the importance of memories and stories. The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson similarly guides readers by focusing on their future passing. It sounds morbid, yes; it also is philosophic, realistic, and generous. Magnusson explains how taking responsibility for our own stuff will remove the burden of hoarding from our children’s shoulders in the future. What parents wouldn’t want to help their children even after death?
Whether we are retirees looking at our golden years, or young parents in the trenches of toddlerhood, all of us can bear several things in mind.
- Stop accumulating stuff. We as individuals need to check our own habits and vices. Are we overly attached to material possessions? Do we have closets or garages with growing piles of stuff we can’t bear to deal with? We can hardly cast blame if we perpetuate the cycle ourselves. Let’s detach from our material goods and instead see virtues, relationships, and memories as the most important things to collect.
- Take responsibility for the things we own. We need to be good stewards of our earthly blessings. At any stage of life, we can deal with the trash, declutter our homes, and organize the storage. Letting go of meaningless items makes space for us to enjoy what actually adds value to our lives. Don’t let that beloved sweater your grandma made rot away in a box. Wear it! Frame that photo and put it on the wall. Use the heirloom china. By clearing our clutter, we rediscover what we actually want to use in our everyday lives.
- Start future downsizing now. Wherever we are in life, we can simplify by thinking ahead. For a young parent like myself, I can limit myself now to one box to hold baby memories–I don’t need to save every onesie. An empty nester might go through years of papers and files now and shred anything not needed. Grandparents can pass on heirloom items now so those items can be enjoyed instead of being lost and tossed in a hoard of clutter later on. We can all start doing small things now in order to make end-of-life changes easier for everybody.
Finally, we would do well to remember what gives possessions value in the first place. Monetary value is not what matters—what we truly care about in the end is memories. Sentimental items are full of memories of the loved one gone, and often they are simply a useful everyday item.
For example, my brother wanted my late grandfather’s work boots, just run-of-the-mill Carhartts Grandpa Ed always wore. My husband has his grandfather’s Liturgy of the Hours prayer book, well-thumbed from daily use. Letters, favorite photos, wedding rings, recipes … these are the real heirlooms, treasured because they bring the clearest memory of the person.
Let’s clear out the clutter so that when we’re gone, our children will be able to focus not on the huge amount of garbage to handle, but rather on these few things that carry meaning and love.
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