Yesterday was another tedious day of cleaning out and downsizing. Perhaps it was the most difficult day of all. I had to take two dressers and a large armoire and fit it into one dresser. To make matters worse, it was really the first time that I had to pull Bill into the picture because much of it was his stuff.

Up until now, he has putzed around in his office, mostly moving stuff around. He has done some in the garage, but frankly, most of the stuff in the garage is going to be pointed to and junked. I’m still hopeful that someone will take some of his glorious tools.

I began on my own in his armoire that is filled with sweaters he’s collected over the years. Keeping in mind that we spend winters in AZ, I kept a few and set the others aside for Goodwill. His t-shirts were a mixed bag, with some in pretty good shape, but others with necks so stretched out that they would go over the head of Godzilla. Those I simply threw out because I don’t think Godzilla shops at Goodwill.

And then I got to his keepsake box. (By the way, I don’t think he would call it a keepsake box, but frankly, it’s where he keeps his treasures.) The box contained things such as his wedding ring from his first marriage and a Mass card from the funeral Mass of the federal judge for whom he worked after law school and whom he loved and respected. But it also contained about 10,000 tie clips that he had collected over the years, some gag gifts, and some western wear accessories. I challenged him, reminding him that he no longer wears ties, that the gags are long forgotten, and that he never wears western clothing that needs accessorizing. I laid down the law: The ring and Mass card stays; the tie clips go. He got up and walked downstairs.

Given that I’m a pain in the butt, I followed him, continuing to nag him about the need for getting rid of things because we are moving into a smaller place, blah, blah, blah.

He looked at me with sad eyes, and said, “It’s really hard, isn’t it?”

I felt about the size of a peanut.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed.

Because it really is. I’m not sure exactly why. A photo of these items would be nearly the same as keeping the item itself. I think maybe it’s just a reminder that we’re getting older and there is more life behind us than there is in front of us. It’s a somber reminder of our humanness.

The good news, however, is that I was able to fit all of those items into one dresser. Well, with a few going into the little dresser that was Court’s when he was a baby. Don’t nag. It’s little and will fit in our closet.

And, by the way, I have little room to talk. While he needs to work harder on his office, I have yet to tackle my basement storage room with its popover pans and dumpling steamer baskets.