Sara Alexander shares why it’s sometimes difficult to let go of cherished items.
I am about to close down my therapy office. Not because I’m going to retire, but because I now work online, and I work from home. “Closing Down Your Office” should be a chapter title in Margareta Magnusson’s book “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning,” the definitive guide to getting rid of possessions you no longer need or use.
But I am not very good at that. I am rarely convinced that I will not need something at some unknowable future moment. Other people seem to enjoy lightening their load. Not me. I’m thinking: “Hey, what if, one day, somebody needs 20 matching water goblets for a large dinner party?” Well, that happened just last week and I had them ready to go.
While telling my sisters that I was emptying out my office, I mentioned Mom’s desk, which is one of the very many items I now need to “re-home.” My oldest sister marveled at the very large amount of sentimentality that led me to (quite expensively) ship Mom’s desk here from Detroit after she died 20 years ago. It’s a homely, old-fashioned, brown wooden thing, with badly chipped veneer and many drawers.
Its remaining charm comes from its antique drawer pulls, round brass rings hinged to metal bases. You lift a ring to operate a drawer, and when you let go, it drops with a muted, resonant, clink. I will have no place to put that desk come September, but I cannot say that I no longer need it.