The Stuff

[politicat]

You all know what I mean. The Stuff, the accumulated detritus of sixty, seventy, eighty years of adult consumerism and a Depression Era childhood. The plastic bags thriftily stuffed into every cranny under the sink, or the rusty, creaky, unopenable 60 year old Band-aid box (It's metal!!), or the packet of Lipton instant soup (vegetable noodle flavor) that is so old and caked that it's stuck to the cabinet shelf. The 60s era poly-cotton sheets that are (mostly) now poly threads with a smattering of cotton fibers here and there, the dresses that haven't fit in 40 years still in the closet, the shoes without heels, the drawer full of decades old odd socks. Ya know, The Stuff. The Stuff that is the source of Ebay.

I have an advantage over a lot of people -- when I moved Gran into assisted living, I picked her up and brought her 1000 miles from her glorious Palace of Stuff.* We made the trip with only the critical Stuff that fit in the back seat and boot of my Soul, plus a reasonable assortment of new, sturdy clothes, furniture and finishings that I bought here. However, I left all the Stuff, and will have to go deal with it soon.

To be honest, there is no dealing with The Stuff if the person is still living in the space with The Stuff. Especially when dealing with cognitive issues, The Stuff takes on a talismanic force, in that it can trigger fading memory or cognitive organization. The problem with that is The Stuff is also an overwhelming force, because everything either triggers a memory, or triggers a memory of a memory. That latter is the more problematic for the elder, because zie knows that Stuff Item #8438 is important but doesn't know why. That is not only overwhelming, but traumatic, because it's a reminder that the world has ceased to be controllable. That's a problem.

I am coming to the opinion, via a lot of anecdote that may actually become data at some point, that when The Stuff hits critical mass, The Stuff itself is an indicator that it's time for care. The key component of the critical mass is what Ros Chast calls grime -- the deep-seated and universal dirt, goo and ick that indicates that fatigue and failing cognition have won out over the evolutionary survival skill of "Don't Shit Where You Eat." If you're trying to decide that your elder needs care, consider not only falling, medication compliance and illnesses, but how well zie can maintain zir environment. If it's something a bi-weekly appointment with a cleaner can handle, then okay, that might not be an indicator. (Hey, being young doesn't prevent being a sloven.) If it's going to take a reality TV crew, a hazmat team or structural engineering, it may be an indicator.

My personal plan for my gran's Stuff is to make my sisters claim the Stuff they want, make them move it, and then call in an estate sale company. I personally don't see the point of keeping any of it, but whatever sentimentality I had has gone out the window. My philosophy now is that there is absolutely nothing on earth worth fighting over, and if other people have the spare energy to work up a fight, then that's their business to work out. When the bloodied, battered combatants (either metaphorically or literally in my family, you can never tell) return to me to tell me who the victor is, I'll hand the thing over, but I am not getting involved in that decision. If they can't work it out in a reasonable time frame, the thing gets sold and they each get half.

I'm working up a rubric of decision making when it comes to the Stuff. Please, if you've got something I missed, contribute because The Stuff is one of those things that we all deal with, and all hate to deal with.

1. Is it paper? If Yes, go to 2. If No, go to 13.
2. Is it a tax form? If Yes, go to 3. If No, go to 4.
3. Is it more than 7 years old? If Yes, go to 8. If No, go to 4.
4. Is it a current bill to be paid? If Yes, go to 5. If No, go to 9.
5. Is the bill paid? If Yes, go to 8. If No, go to 6, or 10 or 11.
6. Is the bill more than 3 years old? If Yes, go to 7, then 12. If No, go to 10 or 11.
7. Is it the most recent bill? If Yes, go to 10 or 11. If No, go to 8.
8. Trash it.
9. Is it something the IRS might want to see in the next 6 years? (Real estate, medical billing, major purchase information). If Yes, go to 10. If No, go to 8.
10. Pay, then file it or scan to meaningfully named digital file.
11. Pay the bill when possible.
12. If it's not a student loan or a tax lien, then why am I worried about zir credit? Go to 8.
13. Is the object perishable? If Yes, go to 8. If No, go to 14.
14. Is it a textile? If yes, go to 15. If no, go to 20.
15. Is it stained, ripped, patched, shattered, or otherwise damaged? If Yes, go to 8. If No, go to 16.
16. Is it 1960s/1970s polyester? If yes, go to 17. If no, go to 18.
17. It is never going away. It will be here when the Sun expands and engulfs the earth. In a million years, the hyper-intelligent descendants of horseshoe crabs will excavate a layer of pristine polyester from the ground and name us the WTFery era. Go to 8.
18. Is it hand-sewn? If yes, consider Ebay or a vintage/antique clothing merchant. It might pay for a semester's worth of books for the next college-bound young adult in the family. If no, go to 19.
19. If you've got retro-fetishists around, you might offer it to them, or to an auction service. Expect a return that will pay for a quick service meal, at best. Otherwise, thrift store.
20. Is it an actual antique? (more than 75 years old) If yes, go to 21. If no, go to 24.
22. Is it a known valuable -- coins, art, china, crystal, musical instruments, silver? If yes, go to 23. If no, go to 24.
23. Set aside for appraiser, then auction.
24. Is it a mass manufactured object that happens to be old? If yes, go to 25. If no & small, go to 26. If no and large (requires a dolly or bigger), go to 34.
25. There are people who will collect anything. Put it in the Ebay pile.
26. Was it made by a family member? If yes, go to 27. If No, go to 8.
27. Does anyone in the family want it? If yes, go to 28. If No, go to 8.
28. Do two or more people want it? If yes, go to 29. If no, give it to the sucker ^H^H^H^H lucky heir and be glad it's No Longer Your Problem.
29. Are you one of the people who wants it? if yes, go to 30. If no, go to 33.
30. Is it something your child/heir will truly want in 25 years, or will they apply this rubric to it? If they will want it, go to 31. If the rubric will come into it, see the NO instruction of 28.
31. Are you the physically fittest of those who want it, or do you have champion willing to fight on your behalf? If yes, go to 33. If no, go to 32.
32. You have an elder who is taking up a good chunk of your time, energy and money. Do you really have the spare cycles to fight with a relative? It's a thing you will have to dust and you've already got lots of those. Generate some good will and go to the NO instruction on 28. You might need that person for respite when the literally shitty days come down.
33. CAGE MATCH! Two will enter the Thunderdome, but only one will leave! Sell tickets. (What? Assisted living is expensive. Turn a profit whenever possible. Just make sure the match is sanctioned by your state agency, and that the bookies give you a cut.)
34. Is it furniture? If yes, go to 35. If no, go to 36.
35. Is it too fragile to move? If yes, go to 8. If no, go to 27 and follow from there.
36. Is it an automobile or other motor powered device that has a title? If yes, go to 37. If no, go to 39.
37. Is it paid off? If yes, go to 23. If no, go to 38.
38. Does someone want to assume payments for it and transfer title? If yes, see instructions on 28 No. If no, call bank and make arrangements to relinquish. See 12.
39. Is it real property (house, land, condo)? If yes, go to 40. If no, go to 42.
40. Is it paid off? If yes, go to 23. If no, go to 41.
41. Is it under water? If yes, go to 38. If no, see real estate agent. The key phrases are "Motivated Seller" and "As Is." Price it low.
42. Congratulations! You have encountered the White Elephant of Unusual Size. This is an object that defies classification, moving trucks and all known laws of property. In all likelihood, this is a Family Heirloom that curses the current owner into trying to figure out what to do with the fershlugginer thing, or which must be decorated around. It is known to cause family outbreaks of discord, either of the "everyone wants it" variety, or of the "who has to live with it this year" variety. If possible, destroy it with fire, water or defenestration to prevent another generation's madness. Please claim "accident" when asked what happened to placate the gods of White Elephants.

*NB: It's not just her Stuff in her old house; it's also the accumulation of 135 years of a family of mostly farmers, who combined thrifty and resourceful with unusual amounts of storage space. There's my great-grandparents' stuff, and his parents' Stuff, and a lot of cousins', aunts', uncles' and near-nuffs' Stuff. Staggering quantities of Stuff, sometimes in archeological layers.

[Habibi]

1. What a marvelous, astute post!

You should write a blog, seriously. The Stuff is the stuff of nightmares for many caregivers, indeed.

[libodem]

2. No doubt

I have my parents and some grandparent s tuff in my garage that needs gone through. I'm moving so now is the time to shread.

[politicat]

3. Something that my local recycling service sends out:

Most things don't need to be shredded, just torn in a few pieces, especially if it's a significant amount of paper. Shredded paper doesn't recycle well, and much of it ends up landfilled. The confetti shredders' output is almost always landfilled because the fibers are too destroyed.

If you have home compost or use your shredded paper as base-layer mulch, then yes, shred and compost/mulch. But if you're looking at boxes full of documents, either tear it up (it'll be so mixed it won't be easily reassembled) or use one of the document destruction services. (That paper often ends up getting slurried for paperboard or fiberized for blow-in insulation.)

Which is good for us Stuff handlers -- tearing in 4-8 is much faster than home shredding, and document services are even faster (if not free). Some cities do have shredables events; it's worth calling your city or county. (Often in the spring, after tax season, I've noticed, so a little late now.)

[DeadLetterOffice]

4. Thank you for making me smile.

My dad died last month and I'm heading shortly to my mother and her house full of 44 years worth of STUFF. Much of which is, as you found with your Gran, also the accumulation of 100+ years of a family of farmers. Mom's current plan involves moving back to her childhood home -- which is already full of its own STUFF and does not require any of her STUFF to go with her, except for things like clothes.

It's a 4-bedroom, two-story house with an attic and a full basement. I'm doomed.

There are entire cabinets in the basement filled to overflowing with glassware from the Depression and prior. And post, too, for that matter. Every room in the house is full of antique furniture and knick-knacks and yet more glassware. Things from my various great great grand somethings, and from this homestead and that old farm. And while my mother at one time knew where each and every piece in her house came from, the not-as-mild-as-she-likes-to-think stroke last October has played havoc with that knowledge.

So I am about to be confronted with a houseful of stuff, much of which will be antiques, some of which will be 'heirlooms' (things which we cannot sell upon pain of death, at least not while my mother is still living), some of which will be WTFery -- and exactly 50% of which my mother is going to try to pass off to me. (Thank the gods I have a sibling who will be saddled with the other 50%).

I will clearly not be allowed to apply your awesome rubric while standing amidst the STUFF in its natural habitat. But I most assuredly will apply it once the migration has occurred and I (in my tiny little home) am inundated-unto-drowning in the STUFF that is my birthright as my mother's daughter.

[politicat]

5. Omg. Your mom and my gran and their houses are twins.

My grandmother moved back to the family farm several years ago with the same blending of stuff and the same "don't touch that, it's priceless!!!1!!111!!! attitude. I had the advantage that she was, at the time, a hard-core HGTV addict, and had absorbed a degree of that channel's de-clutter attitude, though not enough of it. (Unfortunately, she switched to Food Network not long after, which didn't do her pancreas any favors.)

For me, the best tool then was ebay. If she gave me the priceless heirloom speech on something I knew was probably junk, I made her go search for it. If we didn't find an auction or listing for it, it went on the yard sale pile. It helped, somewhat.

I'm sorry for your loss and hope it was as peaceful as possible, and I hope the smile and the mental girding of loins can help.

[politicat]

6. When you need another giggle:

The Scary Ham, by Ellen Klages

http://www.tor.com/blogs/2014/05/the-scary-ham

[Hell Hath No Fury]

7. Oh my gosh --

that was funny. My Mom's fridge is like that -- FULL of stuff that should have gone into the garbage ages ago. Each time I visit I clear it out but there's always MORE when I come visiting next.

[DebJ]

8. I had to help clean out 50 years of the Stuff my father, a hoarder, kept.

In a garage he built that was 30' x 30' and went up almost two stories. And underneath their 3 bedroom home, he had dug out a cellar that was full.
And one of the bedrooms was full.

I've never kept much Stuff myself, but after the exercise of cleaning his Stuff last spring, I've spent what spare time I have had this year
dumping what little bit of Stuff I have. I've always taken some time each summer over the last decade to dump old financial records and
the like, but now, I'm doing it with a vengeance.

I imagine others here did the same after going through their parents things.

[Aerows]

9. OMG

I know EXACTLY what you are referring to.

A sewing machine that "needs" to be used, but drives me f-ing crazy because I have to come over and thread it and listen to my mother rant, scream about the bobbin, and then I have to put the damn thing away.

I think I'd rather have a root canal without anesthesia than hear the dreaded words "I need to hem your daddy's pants."