Sixteen years. On one hand it seems like yesterday, but on the other hand, there is no place that has ever felt more like home to me. All the other places we lived in were just “houses.” I love this place so much that it feels like my soul was born here.

We moved into this 3-story colonial farmhouse 16 years ago. We knew it was time. We needed more bedrooms, a better school system, a location that was closer to everything, and a place where we were not located barely 15 feet from the street. We decided to take the phrase “Out with the old, in with the new” literally. We sold our 1740’s house and bought a home built in 1831. That counts as newer, right?

When we moved in to this home, our youngest was 6 and our eldest, 14. They adapted beautifully, and embraced their new schools wholeheartedly. Clearly we knew it was the right move; all 6 bedrooms were filled- like all three floors of this place- with life. From floor to rafters there was a constant source of sounds; mostly laughter, and horseplay, occasionally tantrums and turmoil. This old house was well-loved by not only us, but our children’s friends. Every night as I cooked dinner in the kitchen, their friends would gather to watch (aka TASTE) what I was creating. I loved being able to provide what they complained they didn’t get in their homes- a crazy mom who danced to music while throwing whatever ingredients she felt like using, all into one huge meal. My heart filled, on a daily basis, knowing that they were benefiting from something I, too enjoyed.

All the birthday parties, holiday celebrations, graduations… Dressing our kids in their cool Halloween costumes, and peering in-between all the other parents also attempting to get a picture at the school parades was replaced by dress shopping and tuxedo renting for proms, and bumping shoulders with all the other parents taking pictures of their children in their finest at before-prom parties. I was intrigued by the look of awe in the parents’ faces; looking back, I believe they WERE in awe! They were indebted to the powers that be (those same powers that prevented them from eating their young) that their kids survived into their high school years. Yes, there were times that our children made us want to drink…heavily. I never drank alcohol, but on numerous occasions I threatened to learn how to drink… in copious amounts!

Somehow alongside 16 years of watching our children grow into adults, came 16 years of collecting “things.” Our home became filled with all items reminiscent of our babies, who are now aged 22-30. They flew out of our nest, but left all sorts of belongings. Their belongings felt right at home next to our “16-year collection.” In my becoming expert at dusting these possessions, I camouflaged them, and justified saving them (my kids call this “hoarding”) by making them look like they belonged. They didn’t need to.

That brings us to today. This morning I awakened to a beautiful sight outside on our driveway. A HUGE brown DUMPSTER! Our children all paid for the biggest dumpster you can rent, and they will show up tomorrow morning to help us evacuate our basement-full of clutter. You see, we have our children. Even though they have moved away physically, these possessions we hold onto, are just things. The Halloween costumes, prom dresses, and soccer sneakers are NOT our children! They cannot hug us, talk to us, and bring us neither flowers nor a home-made meal. They only know how to gather dust, and crowd our basement, garage, and our souls! We need simplicity.

Somehow I knew this all along. A heart and a home filled with needless debris waste space that could be filled with family and with love. Have I told you just how much I love our children AND the sweet brown dumpster I see outside my window? It’s all good. The children and the dumpster. They both leave when they are too big to stay. The children, they can always come back. The dumpster filled with all the “things” we collected for 16 years? Never. Coming. Back! Gone for good. Some things are better unseen. And unsaved…

We feel so free now. Who knew that empty space could be and feel so beautiful?