Table of Contents
PREFACE
Lauras Story: Its Not About the Stuff
You cant take it with you when you go is something my mom used to say to my brother, Scott, and me all the time when we were growing up. I now realize that the message she was trying to instill in us was this: Life is not about the material things we accumulate in our years on this earth. But as a young child, those nine words You cant take it with you when you go puzzled me. I didnt really understand them until one day about 20 years ago, in 1984.
My parents divorced when I was five and Scott was three, and they shared custody of us kids. Shortly after the divorce, Mom, Scott, and I moved to Washington; Dad and Ceil moved there a few years later, so we would all be close.
We settled into a modest three-bedroom, one-bath home with about 1,000 square feet of living space. The house had a detached shed but no garage. Needless to say, we didnt have a lot of room for extra, unnecessary stuff.
In the early years of her marriage, Mom had been diagnosed with diabetes, a disease that meant she couldnt have children. My parents were intent on having a family, though, so they adopted Scott and me. Moms diabetes didnt keep her from her other passion, either: she was a concert pianist, played the tympani in the symphony and jazz piano in a small band, taught vocal music at my elementary school, and gave private piano lessons in our home.
Most of Moms work-related time was spent teaching piano lessons. While she taught, her purse always sat next to her on the floor. When she was finished with lessons for the day, she would take the purse with her to the kitchen while she prepared dinner. When it was time for bed, the purse would go with her to her bedroom. In the morning, when Mom was putting on her makeup, the purse would sit next to her chair by the dresser. It didnt really matter where Mom was in the house; her purse was always by her side.
By the time I was fourteen, Moms health had started to deteriorate due to the many complications of diabetes. It was time for Scott and me to move to Dad and Ceils house so Mom could concentrate on her health. Mom spent the next two years in and out of hospitals. I was too young to understand all that was going on.
In August 1984, Mom entered the hospital for the last time. She was there for about a month before being sent home in mid-September. When she came home, my grandma Marie, my moms mom, was there to take care of her. On a Friday evening, I remember talking to Mom about the homecoming dance I was going to that night, and telling her that I looked forward to seeing her again on Sunday, which was the day before my grandmas birthday.
Unfortunately, during the wee hours of that Sunday morning, my dad received a phone call from Grandma Marie, the kind of call Im sure no one could ever be prepared for. My mom had passed away, Marie told him, just a few hours before Scott and I were to see her again.
My dad had to deliver the news to Scott and me that morning, since we had planned to pick Mom and Grandma up for church. I cannot imagine the pain that Dad must have experienced, thinking about how he was going to deliver this news to his two children.
Later that morning, Dad took us to Moms house, where both Grandma and Grandpa were waiting. During the 20-minute drive there, I had no idea what to expect or what Id feel when I walked back into Moms house. I was completely numb, my heart ached, and there was a knot in my stomach.
What I do remember is this: Grandma said to Scott and me, Go ahead and take anything you wantits all yours. I didnt really comprehend what I was hearing and instead wandered around the house aimlessly, as if Mom were going to reappear.
A short time later I wandered into Moms bedroom, and there on the floor next to her bed sat her purse. Suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricksYou cant take it with you when you go. Mom was right.
To this day, I have never forgotten those nine words and what they mean to me. Dont get me wrong; I like to have my things just as much as the next person. But Ive chosen not to live a life of excess possessions after having witnessed firsthand the fleeting significance of stuff.
It was impossible for me to take anything from our house that day. I was too overwhelmed by trying to understand how my moms life had ended at the age of 46. But as the weeks passed, I found myself spending many hours at the house with Grandma and Grandpa, sorting through all of Moms possessions and preparing for an estate sale.
Going through this process at such a young age no doubt helped me in more ways than I can recognize. For one thing, it taught me that in every tragedy, there is a learning opportunity. It may not always be obvious at the time, but eventually it becomes clear.
I truly believe the organizational gifts I have to offer today arose out of this formative experience. Many of our clients come to our company, Eliminate Chaos, because of frustration with one form or another of chaos in their life. They have no idea, when they share their very personal stories with me, how deeply I understand. I hope that after reading this book, theyll know that their project is more than just another job for me; its about helping them create the kind of life they want to live.
During the countless hours we spent sorting through everything in my moms house to prepare for the estate sale, I had a lot of time to reflect on the experiences we had shared. In the end, I kept only those things that meant the most to me, and let everything else go. I can count on the fingers of two hands the number of items I took. My list may surprise you. Here it is:
1 . Most of the photos, which Scott and I have since divided between us.
2. Most of the Christmas ornaments, which Scott and I also divided.
3. Moms sewing machineand yes, I still use it today, although not as much as Id like, since Im running a business!
4. Some of Moms piano music (mostly the books I used to play from while growing up, and a few pieces that evoke memories of Mom playing).
5. Moms recipe box, containing her handwritten recipes (which I later computerized).
6. A few of her Hummels, which Scott and I divided.
7. The china, which to this day I dont think Ive ever used; it sits packed away in the rafters of my garage. I think it may be time to let it go.
8. Several pieces of jewelry, some of which I wear, others of which Ive kept for the memories they evoke.
9. The treble clef lamp that sat on our grand piano, which now sits on my piano in my living room, next to a photo of my mom and me.
10. Moms black sapphire cocktail ring, which is the one item that I have today that I did not take from Moms home. Rather, I had completely forgotten about it. When I graduated from college some six years later, my dad gave me a small jewelry box. Inside the box was this ring. A part of Mom was now with me on my graduation day. It truly was an amazing and thoughtful gift.
Its interesting to look at the above list and see what, among all my mothers possessions, proved most important to meand what brought back the most memories. As youve probably already observed, most of the items on the list arent worth much monetarily. But theyre priceless in terms of the joy they bring to me.
