Downsizing: It’s a Bear - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Downsizing: It’s a Bear - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

The emotion of leaving a home where so many memories have infused the walls, the air, and every corner is an experience that requires an understanding of what it takes to leave. Gone will be the giant windows, high ceilings, spacious rooms, center staircase, and productive gardens. Gone will be the honor of living in a turn-of-the-century home with its attendant history.

No longer will the twin beds be occupied by our grandchildren. No longer will they sleep on the living room floor on the evening before the 4th.

No longer will they sit on the curb awaiting Dora the Explorer or the Clydesdales to come along during a 4th of July parade that reverberates by our house. Gone is the luxury of sitting on our porch to enjoy ourselves with friends and family on that day of independence. The smaller place (is that not the point?), though still in Bristol, is not on the route. And the grandchildren are too grown up to join us these days. Oh well. Maybe we’ll watch the fireworks.

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But to move from larger to smaller, from familiar and kind neighbors, from marching bands to quiet breezes, from comfortable to uneasiness, from spacious garden to growing in pots, is a bear. The metaphor works for me because the bear is a symbol of strength, courage, tenacity, patience, and hard work. Downsizing is plain old hard work. And patience is critical. And you need a reserve of strength to move boxes, especially on sizzling days.

I’m clobbering metaphors today. Here’s another. At a particular point every day, we hit a wall as if we were participating in an endurance sport. Effectiveness suddenly comes to an end. Fatigue hits. Time for a break. Time to cool in the heat. Time for sugar. Time to peel ourselves off the wall. Time to sit. Time for Prosecco.

Why the move? Because it’s another plateau in the journey. It’s the proverbial reality check. The time came when we needed to consider a smaller house, something more practical, more convenient, and more easily managed with less physical strain. With a first-floor bedroom. But going smaller takes sacrifices; like how to squeeze stuff from big to small. How to figure out what you don’t need and then how to get rid of it. Sell? Donate? Toss?

We do have a habit of harboring things. Some are essential; many are dispensable. Downsizing gave us the chance to evaluate, to force us to get rid of the unnecessary. And there comes that pause in the decision as you hold something in your hand, as you rest on that piece of furniture, and you question yourselves. Should we get rid of this? And you do. And you realize that once it’s gone, it’s gone, not to be dwelled upon again.

Yup. It’s a bear. And we hit the wall. Notwithstanding all that, we’re excited. Downsizing is right for this time.

I now can pack like a pro. Now, where’s the Prosecco?