Conquering Clutter in 1979

Three decades ago my sons, my mother, and I were living a nightmare!! I had recently married a man with a widowed mother and two maiden aunts. Unexpectedly, Aunt Irene died in the family home, in Hollywood, California. It's a very -L--O--N--G- sad story!!

The work to restore the once-beautiful home, in a desirable neighborhood, fell to me and my hard-working sons and my never-complaining mother. My husband was too ill to assist. I often referred to the place as "fourteen rooms, attic, basement, detached two car garage with studio above the garage." Every inch, of every room, was stuffed with things!! The two maiden aunts had been school teachers and they continued to "save" items long after they retired. Remember when frozen orange juice came in small cardboard cans? There must have been a thousand cardboard cans!! Newspapers piled high because they were a treasure trove of pictures for young students!! Let your imagine run wild: Craft items were endless!!

In a trunk, in the basement, we found the wedding garments of my husband's grandparents--married in 1896 (if my memory serves me correctly). The attic contained toys that the grandchildren had outgrown but were stashed away for safe keeping. Without exaggeration, over eighty years accumulation of Anderson family possessions!!

The plumbing had failed years before and the water turned off at a valve under the house. Imagine eighty year old Aunt Irene crawling in that dark dirty space. For years she carried water into the house from a hose in the yard. (She did her bathroom duties in a pail, in the vastly overgrown backyard.) Likewise, electricity was limited to one section of the house; extension cords went in several directions. She would retire to her bedroom as soon as the sun went down. ~~ Money was no object, she could afford to hire a plumber and an electrician. (I'm "thrifty" but Irene was a miser.) ~~ The relatives did not know the living conditions; she never allowed anyone in the house. Visits were limited to the front porch.

Aunt Grace lived in an upscale nursing home in Glendale; mother-in-law Marion lived comfortably in an apartment with meals-on-wheels, homemaker chore services and visiting nurses. The sisters talked to one another on the phone several times a day. When Aunt Irene didn't answer... Aunt Grace became alarmed and called us. The paramedics met us at the house, broke in the door, and found the elderly lady had died in her sleep.

Again I say, it's a long story; I'll confine my narrative to details of the labor required to eventually list the property for sale. We moved into that "gross" house to begin the repairs and eliminate the possessions. My mother (in her seventies) stood for hours washing glassware, and kitchenware, so we could put things out for a continuing "Estate Sale." We spent hours at the Laundromat washing bedding, curtains, tablecloths, etc.

First: I arranged for the plumber and electrician. (Temporarily, we lived in a motor home in the driveway.) Then, with utilities, hour after hour, day after day, month after month my family scrubbed, cleaned, repaired and painted. Also trimmed shrubbery and trees. A mountain of trash was piled at the curb week after week, for the refuse service.

In my humble opinion, from NSGCD, regarding obsessive-compulsive hoarders list, Aunt Irene would be predominately Level Three, and Level Five re: Sanitation & Cleanliness. I was new to the family so didn't know when she became reclusive. When did the situation become so overwhelming that she could not make decisions?? Obviously, she could not throw away a few things every day and slowly regain some living space. She had her little path through the house from kitchen to bedroom.

Lo, those many years ago, I vowed that I would never leave such a horrific mess for my children and grandchildren. I was sincere in my vow and my intentions!! Yet thirty years later I look around and see the disturbing evidence that I, too, am a "hoarder." I don't need all the twisty ties, recycled Ziploc bags, plastic storage containers--and every imaginable size of empty cardboard box (in case I need to mail a package). I don't need a dozen blankets and sheets (no one ever stays over night). I don't "need" all the recreation vehicle (RV) accessories; I don't need a Blue Ox bicycle rack. (If you have been following my "blog," I don't need to keep all the VHS and audio cassettes that I will never watch nor listen to.)

Via Google searches, I've found several resources including National Study Group on Chronic Disorganization. I may be deceiving myself, I believe I am Level One on the NSGCD scale (and that is a good thing!!). My apartment is reasonably clean. Aside from my twin bed in the front room, the living areas are open and accessible. Finding these several sites: FlyLady.net, Messies Anonymous, Disposophobia, Discover Organization, and NSGCR has been a wake up call for me. Now I will admit the problem, take responsibility, and dispose of excess possessions!!