Memoir Retirement

Sweeping the Garage

Sweeping the Garage

I have used the analogy of sweeping the garage for many years. It is my way of saying that every life needs to include some trivial tasks, not because they cannot always be avoided, but because doing basic tasks is good for the soul. This is somewhat about reminding ourselves that being of service and not vending every aspect of our lives, even when we have the means to do so, is important to reconnect us with reality. Most people since man has walked erect have spent most of their day securing the Maslowian needs of life. Most have not had the luxury of leisure or recreation or even the flexibility to enjoy very many artistic pursuits, whether that be reading, writing, painting, sculpting or any of the many pass-times that catch peoples’ fancies.

The other thing that sweeping the garage does for people is give them a meaningful sense of accomplishment. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel I’ve had a fulfilling day unless I can point to things completed that give me the sense that the day has not been wasted. Not every day involves finding the cure for cancer or successfully launching a new venture company. But every day that ends without a sense of accomplishment is a day that reminds us of our insignificance in the face of the omnipotent universe. That feeling of helplessness is a cumulative abrasive that wears away our patina of confidence. We cannot afford too many days that sand down our precious but paper-thin fenders.

As we settle in out here in San Diego, we are awaiting our shipment from New York. We have a fully furnished and functional house out here, but even after unloading whatever we could to our three kids, we have a good-sized load on it’s way out here. Our off-duty fireman crew of movers tells us to expect the shipment some time next week. That means we have to have a place for everything. The everything consists of two guest bedrooms of updated furniture, miscellaneous odd but dear furniture pieces, our favorite artwork, and boxes of clothes and various chotchkas. We have prepared most of the rooms destined to get furniture by arranging to give away anything and everything for which we have no immediate use. It seems our relatives’ relatives have more use for our hand-me-downs than do our kids in New York. We are happy to oblige, but we want to get the stuff off-premise as soon as possible. The rest that can’t be placed immediately in the house gets put into the garage.

I recently did the move math and find that in my entire life of 65 years, I have moved residences twenty-nine times, sixteen of those as an independent adult. That means I’ve moved every 2.24 years. Lately, we’ve moved every 2-3 years as well. I will not claim to be burdened with most of the work of the moves any more, that task falls to Kim. But what has stayed with me is the deep-seated need to get settled as quickly as possible. Consider it a casualty of being a moveaholic. but I need things settled to function. Most people like to take their time pondering where to place this or that, but my particular dysfunction requires that I make immediate decisions and adjust later on, whatever the cost. And here’s the worst part; I need the garage freed up from its role as a staging area in a few days as well.

I have yet to find a person who finds my position reasonable or Kim’s position undeserving of pity.

So, it’s my time to sweep the garage. To be honest, we keep a pretty neat garage anyway, but it’s a 3+ bay garage that has never housed more than one car and a few motorcycles, so there has been lots of storage room for anything we didn’t want in the house. But it has been an accumulation of mostly unnecessary junk, all neatly arrayed on chrome-plated wire shelving, but mostly useless space-consuming stuff that would never be missed.

Today we bought more chrome wire racks at Home Depot (I’m rebuked for not going to the more politically-correct Lowe’s). I almost busted a gut trying to lift the 115 pound boxes with a 48”x24”x72” shelf unit in it. We then spent the afternoon building the units, which was easy after the first one. Luckily for me, our friends Oswaldo and Gary arrived to help just about when I was spent. Naturally, Kim had another hour of gas in her tank so she and Oswaldo carried on moving boxes, reorganizing and sweeping the garage of all that unnecessary junk. Oswaldo is a reorganizing guru. He seems to love the process. It’s not too surprising to me. It is a very fulfilling process, but it still takes an unusual person to help reorganize someone else’s belongings.

I don’t know what our future will bring. No one ever does for sure. Right now I am enjoying allowing life to take a central role in my existence. Work has occupied that spot for me for forty-five years, but now it seems more appropriate to fall into line with the rest of mankind by doing more for myself and participate more in my own daily and routine needs, no matter how mundane they may seem.

One of my favorite retirement stories is about the college classics professor who retires at age 70 and the next day takes a job as the gymnasium custodian at the same college. To me, that is the essence of humility and grace. There is no job too small or too menial to be worthy of attention by any of us. The life of the mind is valuable and honorable, but then so is the life of the hands. I like the sense of accomplishment in seeing garage wire rack shelving up and in use. I didn’t happen to do it in actuality today, but I like sweeping the garage more and more the older I get.