For Christmas, I liquidated part of our emergency cushion to pay off my husband’s credit card debt. (He’d run it up because the computer that lies at the heart of his enterprises died and there hadn’t been enough loose cash to pay for a new one.)
Clearing a couple thousand dollars out of savings feels like a tooth has been pulled.
But as the shock began to abate, it became clear that the pay off was a decluttering.
Darkly (and not what I mean) the cash itself is gone…
And so are the bindings of the debt freeing emotional space for new dreams to reach for the sun.
And what cash remains has no strings attached. The cash I spent freed the rest of it.
… Taking with them a six foot long side table, a vanity/bureau with mirror and a dozen boxes.
They’d read my blog.
So she set up the boxes in the back of her car and said, “Here. Take THIS picture. Then you can write…”
And so I have.
It was a beautiful healing time.
This is the sequel to yesterday’s post: Setting Limits https://americandeclutterer.com/2017/07/23/setting-limits/
Dear American Declutterer,
Your message, sensitivity and patience is much appreciated. Knowing my brother-in-law has found such a loving supportive wife is comforting to us.
You two have done more than expected in a situation like this. We should have taken care of things long ago. I’m very sorry.
We will come pick up the items you still have.
We are looking forward to meeting you
Our moonlighting house painter was exhausted by the time he finished squeezing the work he did for us into his dwindling free time. It took him three months while he dovetailed painting our house with the increasing demands of his primary job and dodged inconveniently timed rainstorms.
But in the end, he left behind this unsightly pile of used paint buckets grumpily grumbling to my husband, “If you make me take these, I’ll have to charge you for the dump fee.” I was not happy when I discovered this mess and the story of his parting words.
But irritated as we were, we quickly figured out that we could add those buckets to a stash of broken useless stuff we’d been assembling for our own trip to the dump — one of the two free loads we get to discard each year.
And tonight. Tonight, given the appalling triumph of institutionalized mean-spiritedness against the weakest among us we have just witnessed, I must start building the counter-revolution by forgiving our house painter.
In the end no harm was done, buddy. You are a really good painter and our house looks wonderful.