With the State Fair and the new school year here, memories flood back — once captured on a paper calendar pinned to the bulletin board, then in spiral-bound weekly calendar (still my favorite, pencil only!), and later on desktop electronic calendar. When we decided to downsize while preserving memories, I organized nearly 35 years of family dates into a single Google Sheet called "Family Important and Fun Dates from Margaret’s Calendars." This simple digital chronicle of our family’s journey, from our children's milestones to the activities and adventures my husband and I now enjoy as empty nesters. tODAY, THERE IS JUST ONE GOOGLE SHEET ...
Thirteen years, seven rental properties, and countless storage boxes later, my oldest daughter finally has a home of her own. Through college, medical school, and residency, we continued to store belongings that didn't fit or belong in the cramped spaces of her temporary living situations. Passing along her belongings felt like closing one chapter and opening another—most of all, it represented the end of her grueling training years and the beginning of truly settling down in a lovely home and neighborhood. Her move got me reflecting on my own relationship with storage and my journey toward "Silverish Simplicity." In our former family home, we had one large storage area and two guest bedroom closets filled with plastic totes and banker boxes (see picture below). I even stored empty totes—a sure indication I was planning to accumulate more rather than less. With our move nearly four years ago and the natural process of downsizing while launching our children into their first homes, the number of boxes and totes has dramatically decreased. More importantly, I have no reason to purchase new totes, and I celebrate each time I empty a box or bin and it moves on to family members who need them. ... THE NUMBER OF BOXES AND TOTES HAS DRAMATICALLY DECREASED ...
My spring and summer to-do lists fondly remind me of my father. When my husband and I started caring for our long-time family home and 30 acres, spring's excitement came with overwhelming feelings. Early there with four young children ages six months to five years, I found myself in tears facing all that needed to be done, including a large pasture that needed mowing. My dad — a master gardener and hobby farmer — saw my tears and what was needed and stepped in. This began a 15-year summer routine to help with pasture mowing. Our family fondly remembers those early summer mornings when Grandpa arrived in his little tan truck, sometimes before 7 a.m. We'd chat over coffee at my kitchen table (youngest daughter remembering him sitting in "my chair"), then off he'd go to mow his adopted pasture. He loved to mow and, like everything our energetic father did, approached it as if he were running out of time. Oldest son recalls: "I'd bring him lemonade, and he'd drink most of it quickly. Then, without stopping, he'd throw the almost empty cup back at me and keep mowing." Oldest daughter added: "He was so focused that when we delivered lemonade, I was scared he might run me over." ... SPRING'S EXCITEMENT CAME WITH AN OVERWHELMING FEELING ...