All the shelves are empty, as are the kitchen cupboards. I realize I've taken on something monumental. In short, I'm transforming the museum of a life that no longer exists into my own abode.
Redo the kitchen, floors, paint. The place is not for sale, but the process is almost as I were moving.
I tried emptying a desk on my own and a 30 minute job turned into three hours.
Did I really need that software game for DOS? Remember the day my son and a friend "played" a baseball game that was on the radio ... ? The computer version, set to play itself, came out pretty close to the real game being played by real human beings out in the stadium.
Then there's the anxiety about getting rid of furniture that is way past its prime. And the comic strip she left taped inside a cupboard door.
When all this comes at me I have to go lie down. Breathe deeply.
In the end, I gave in and hired someone to pack. I'm getting someone to take the old furniture away. I'm getting someone to store the boxes for the month or so work will be in progress.
As a result, I have only what I had at hand when the packing took place. Where is ...? I don't know. I had too many things, anyway.
This brings to mind Giovanni Francesco di Bernardone, young man who in 1204 publicly disavowed his wealthy father, returning his money but also his clothes, down to his underwear, and walked off naked out of his native town of Assisi to start a new life.
I imagine that first day walking naked amid the brambles in the valley outside the town. Given that I am blogging, I am far from naked, light years away from that. I am getting a glimpse of the loss, but not the new life of Francis' marriage to Lady Poverty.
In any case, I am a much older and insecure 21st century agnostic. I am not sure there is a transcendent point to any of this travail.
