Change is hard; change is good.

I sat in the car outside of the thrift store and cried today. I’d seen the last of the nice things we had at our big beloved old Center St. house on display – three Oriental rugs. One had been in the T.V. room, one in the dining room and one in our bedroom. They were pretty and thick and had lovely memories attached to them.  

We tried to use them in the new, much smaller lake house, but after a year of wishful thinking, it was clear they just didn’t fit – not in size, not in style and not by way of having had any new memories associated with them. They were part of a time gone by and so to the thrift store they went.

The store benefits the local women’s shelter, so the rugs went for a good cause. A lot of the things we brought from Center St. have ended up there, because they, like those last three rugs, never fit into the new house/lake life.

Before I ended up sobbing in the parking lot, I’d stopped in to donate some things purchased for the lake house that we no longer needed or wanted. As I was toting the items in, wrestling with them and the front door, a volunteer rushed to my aid.  

“Another pretty rug!” she exclaimed. “We’ve been getting so many nice rugs in lately. Look at that one! Isn’t it beautiful?”

It was our TV room rug on proud display.   

“It is beautiful,” I said. “It used to be in my home. We donated it. Those over there were ours, too.”

The woman looked shocked and uncomfortable, which was not my intention, so I added something about “downsizing to a smaller house, the rugs didn’t fit there, we were happy to donate them, etc. for such a good cause, etc.…”  

The vehemence of my reaction to seeing those rugs for sale in the thrift store surprised me. I’m an old Hippie who has never developed much affection for “stuff.” Given the choice between a family trip and a new sofa, we always picked the trip. So, for years we had lots of good family experiences and pretty shabby “stuff,” (plus money was always tight.)   

The last ten years at the “Big White House” on Center St. had been different. With the kids grown and established in lives of their own, and ample air miles and hotel coupons (thanks to Mr. Clark’s extensive travel for work) money was not as tight and trips were still happening. So, one by one, we redid each room - plush rugs, antiques, things of quality that looked nice in the spacious rooms of that stately old home.

By the time it came time to move, we had a lot of nice things and a lot of happy memories to go with them. Since the new house is a small log cabin, there wasn’t room for much from the “Big White House” and log cabin “style” is different from the previous columned grace, so we gave everything of value away and donated the rest. That, along with so much else about that move, was hard, but I didn’t realize how hard until I ended up melting down in the parking lot today…

What’s the big deal? They’re only rugs…but they’re not only rugs. They are the last of a life that we will never have again. Those rugs, those nice antiques, those nicely decorated and so very inviting rooms were the pinnacle of a certain time in our life - 25 years of hard work and rich experiences. They represent a time that was so good for our family; we loved that house and we loved each other in that house. Those rugs represent a history that this log cabin in the forest, pretty as it is, will never have. The history and memories it has to offer are still forming…like the ever shifting furniture, rugs and details on its walls and in its rooms. We’re still trying to settle in here…

Our children grew up in that “Big White House” and it was always full of their friends, their laughter and noise, their play and experiences, their challenges and occasional tears. After they graduated and went off to college, they always came back there – for birthdays, holidays and then weddings. So many good times and bright shining faces gathered around that dining room table, on that plush rug, for so many years…So many memories of that TV room rug covered with happy lounging people and sleeping animals, beloved pets no longer with us…

Mr. Clark and I are at a time of life when some opt to stay where they have been and savor the fruits of their many years of labor. Others opt to scale back and move to an “Active Senior” environment. We chose to try the adventure/challenge of a new type of life, in a different kind of home - in the woods, by the lake, far from anything or anyone we knew.

This choice meant giving up the ease and solace that familiarity brings; it means starting over, turning the page and seeing what comes next. So far, there’s been ups and downs; there’s been a lot to adjust to and we are still very much in touch with (and at times wax poetic about) all we gave up.  

But part of starting anew is to give up the parts of life, both personal and possessions-wise, that simply don’t’ work in the new life. That is why those lovely rugs went to the thrift store. Try as we did, those old well-used and loved rugs didn’t work under our new, much smaller dining room table, TV room or bedroom. We needed new rugs on which new memories will be made…

Change is hard; change is good. Let’s hope it helps keep us young.