Feeling the Pinch?

When I left home at 17, I swore I would never be one of those “I remember when” people. Never. Never. Never.

Sigh. 

With the continued economical downturn including declining income the past several years, I find myself becoming my mother, remembering things like the gas wars in the 70s when we filled the tank at 15 cents a gallon, got Porterhouse steak for $1 a pound and hamburger (without pink slime) was 3# for $1. My kids and grandkids roll their eyes at these numbers, just like I did years ago.  They just cannot relate to it.

Determined to look forward instead, I had to face painful questions like: What can I live without?

Two recent occurrences made me ask that question:  helping a sister empty her storage unit and giving away carloads of excess items, and a younger-than-me friend suddenly becoming a widow and needing to quickly downsize to a smaller home.

Some budget cuts were easy. Eating out, a former regular occurrence now will be a rare treat. Meal planning changed too – with shopping every 2-3 days for fresh veggies and fruit.  That assures less food spoilage and saves on gas because I can walk to the farmer’s market.  Who knows, maybe I’ll downsize too!

Because people come first and life should be more than the maintenance of things, two non-negotiables were giving (when your family has been on the receiving end of generosity you look at others’ needs as tragedy not drama) and, though greatly reduced, gifts – Birthday and Christmas ($20 limit) remained.  Yet, after evaluating basement and attic clutter, I’m appalled.

Foolishly complaining to granddaughter Kristin resulted in a complete display of all closet contents spread across two rooms, unveiling bags of clothing, 30 pairs of shoes, 2 sacks of unmatched socks and over 100 cassette tapes I could live without!

Then I remembered the grandchildren’s comments (I love crepes, wish we could make our own ice cream, and how come you have so many steak knives?) and passed on no longer used equipment, small appliances and fabric.  I also sold a few things they didn’t need through EBay and Amazon. Though I don’t intend to hasten my demise, I asked the children if there were any sentimental items they’d want and got requests not to save exciting things like bags of rubber bands, odd shaped envelopes with no matching cards, antiquated technology, clothes that went in and out of style numerous times or 200 pens displaying varied advertisements.  It was refreshing to discover the things they valued were not things at all, but special memories of time spent together.

A week later the attic and garage floors were groaning from bags of on-the-way-to-the-rummage-sale items when another awakening came.

A recently retired friend was reviewing her previous night’s phone messages, the speaker on, when her phone rang.  She winced when a familiar voice began, “As long as you have nothing to do now…”

Mouthing, “I wish,” she sighed and quickly finished the call. We both knew it had been weeks since her retirement and she’d still not gotten a day to herself.  She wasn’t complaining, but she wasn’t looking happy either.

Taking a cue from a wise daughter, I posed the questions I’d been asked: “What do you really want to do, and what would bring you joy?”  We each made two lists, one for goals, and one for things we wish we’d said no to – things that did not bring joy.

In my case that included unkempt flowerbeds a dear neighbor refers to as prairies.  I had to confess, I just didn’t want to pay the price of time to maintain them. Mother’s Day solved that when my daughter and son-in-law helped create perennial spots of vegetation and planted a seated mini-garden requiring much less care.  Fortunately another daughter made meals all day, because I wouldn’t have been able to open a can of soup. Ken and I bemoaned our every move that evening and the following morning as all 2000 aching muscles assured us we had made the right decision to reduce the yard’s upkeep! 

Some of life’s maintenance is necessary and can be satisfying – even fun. Moving those joyful things into a place of priority, my friend set boundaries, and planned time for spontaneity; I looked for more rocks, and I replaced putzy commitments with time on the back porch reviewing books while soaking up sunshine.

Lifestyle changes already reflect savings on herbs and fresh produce harvested from our mini-garden, and cash from selling cell phones with miniscule numbers bought supplies to screen in the back-porch.  With less stuff to maintain I’ll have more time to spend relaxing, reading, with family, and yes, time to laugh, remembering the silly discoveries when Gramma cleaned her closets.

It’s true I still have less money, but I feel in control again. Selling and hauling out stuff I’ve been moving around, storing, and maintaining has simplified life and produced newfound time.

Proverbs 21:20 (NIV), says, “In the house of the wise are stores of choice food and oil, but a foolish man devours all he has.”

Time to savor and enjoy maintenance-free memories that only produce joy.  Priceless – even in a pinch.