The two-car garage was usually tidy. There was a massive built-in cupboard, two tall metal cabinets, and a high storage shelf for items less likely to be called upon. And our car, of course.
Now, it’s empty.
Soon after my husband Ken died, my daughter and grandsons helped me clear out the excess of household goods that had accumulated in our garage. They filled the whole of the front courtyard!
What remained was the core of Ken’s life – tools and equipment from as far back as his days at Mount Isa Mines. As an engineer there, he saved things, not knowing how long one might have to wait for a new part to arrive. It became the habit of a lifetime.
I’d postponed this task for months – partly because I wasn’t up to it, and partly because I hadn’t a clue what many things were called.
My first attempt to find someone to help me go through the tools and equipment fell through – the guys didn’t turn up at the agreed time. I found someone else who happened to live close by and was a retired engineer. Mark had letterboxed me a few months before, writing –
“Give yourself a treat and I’ll get that annoying job sorted for you. Handyman, gardening, housework or anything else you need doing – I can probably do that too!”
He was as good as his word and importantly, he understood Ken from the things that he left behind. The way the tools were organised (or not), the choices he had made, the things he kept. They all spoke of the man Ken was. And Mark recognised him.
Others had found things they wanted, before Mark came. Our daughter claimed a rusted bicycle pump. ‘Ken loved that pump’, she said, simply.
After three hours of puzzling, sifting and sorting, there were neat piles on the garage floor; the tall metal cabinets were empty, and the built-in cupboard held only those things that I might need in future. Mark had thoughtfully assembled a toolbox of common household tools for my personal use. He had also gathered items that he would take home or to the charity that he supported.
When Mark had finished, we surveyed the result. My mobility scooter was next to its charging station as usual, there were a few brooms hanging beside the recycling bin, and a hand trolley against a wall.
‘Next week I’ll re-install the charging station for the leaf blower”, Mark offered.
A couple of days later, when the rubbish removal men were due to come, my gardener Amanda was here. Immediately excited by the array of ‘stuff’, she claimed the sturdy vice bolted to Ken’s work bench for her woodworking husband, plus a bunch of other tools for herself. Ken had so enjoyed Amanda’s visits to tend our courtyard gardens, even in his last weeks. I found myself thinking he would be thrilled to know that some of his treasures were going home with her.
The feeling of ‘a good disposal’ filled my heart with warmth and satisfaction.
My cleared garage wants to speak.
It’s served us well over the 12 years Ken and I have lived here, it reminds me. It’s given us safety and security, flexibility to store necessities, and easy access both into the house and onto the street. It will continue to give me those things.
I am reassured.
But while safety and security are important, and falling is the risk that terrorises us most as we age, flying is our dream. Does not the openness of this empty garage speak to me of possibilities and opportunities not yet imagined?
A portal to my home, the garage resonates with my life, finite as it is. Cleared out for now, it stands empty, receptive, waiting for what’s next.
13 Responses
You made my nightmare sound like a cathartic pleasure. I dread Judy saying (as she does from time to time), ‘can you clear out the garage’, or her favorite euphemism, ‘organise’! It’s never a simple request. It becomes a persistent and repetitive demand until I make at least a token effort.
I’ve never thought of it as an opportunity! Could I? My worry is that Judy might and then my token effort won’t be enough.
We are back next week. How about that coffee you’ve already paid for?
Merv, writing about an experience like that smooths the rough edges! But I’m glad it got you wondering. Yes, my life is getting simpler and will soon be boring – so coffee when you surface sounds good. And hearing about your latest adventures. Ruth.
This post has made me think of a few more things I need to declutter! It’s a good feels to get things organised and cleared out, I hope it gives you some relief Ruth, to have those tasks done
Glad you were able to re-distribute some of these things, Ruth. When it comes to such things, I am a terrible decision maker. I still have two small boxes- unpacked- from when I moved here from Summer Hill ten years ago. There are small bits of jewellery- and other things- I just cannot make decisions about them! But it IS good to see things go to the appropriate people! I’m sure you’re happy that Ken would approve- and now you have a new space!
Yes Sue, I procrastinated about the garage for months. I think it helped that I needed someone to work with me. In the end, the job took three hours instead of three days or three weeks!
How I would love a cleaned out garage! Shane is so messy and I am a neat freak, so I close my eyes when I enter to the garage to get in my car. It rattles my equilibrium 🙂
I love thinking about the symbology…cluttered space, cluttered mind?Clear space, clear mind? I am sure it’s not that simple, but your cleaned out garage felt like clean energy culd flow. happy days Ruth…
Will put our house back on the market around Easter..meanwhile chasing a smell of stagnent water somewhere…what is the symbology of THAT!!! Much, Leonie xx
Leonie, clearly, I’ve uncovered a garage spousal war that’s been simmering since forever! You are not alone.
So that makes the symbology complex, added to the idea that a garage is meant to house our means of transport which is also our freedom and our identity. Then storing a whole lot of superfluous stuff in our garage – ultimately to be cleared out.
Maybe now I’m a clean slate!
And as for stagnant water – well we won’t go there just yet. Good luck.
Ruth, making space is such a soulful activity, even if it feels like drudgery. I hope that new good life enters where it can. 💞
Thank you so much Cecile.
Oh Ruth, I will never look at a garage the same way again. Just recently cleared mine of rubbish but now it is fast filling with stuff from my Mum’s villa. She is now in a nursing home
Debbie, I am so sorry to hear about your mum. But you must have been worn to a thread – and no doubt are still doing many things for her. I do hope you can reclaim some space for yourself – physically, emotionally, spiritually.
Oh, Ruth. Like one of your responders, Ive become a neat freak. I sense your clean out has given you something of a similar feeling.
For me it was not always the way. When we came down from Armidale, I loaded up three semitrailers,
full of things, “stuff” that you never know I might need. Well, its taken fifteen years but I think the culling process is just about complete.
Now, of course, like the box of home useful tools Mark put aside for you, a lot of those items were needed and were often used on the farm but most stayed in the big shed until their demise. The shed now is a neat, orderly and some might say, even unused area. Sad …… but I now smile when I walk in. Stay safe and keep well RU. Mike
Mike, so good to have your perspective as ‘an owner of tools’ – and much, much more, if three semi-trailers are any guide! You’ve done so well to get it down – and I love it that you smile when you walk in!
Me too.