A week from now as I write this, I will be enjoying sinking my toes into brand new oatmeal hued carpeting in my bedroom, living room and dining room. It’s due to be installed this coming Saturday. In preparation, I am clearing off the surfaces of my furniture and packing them in carboard boxes and dollar store bins. The installers will be moving the furniture, thank goodness. Books (lots of books, since I have more of them than any other item in my home), pictures, tschatschkes (Yiddish for knick knacks), spiritual items, plants, crystals, my mother’s Passover dishes that became mine after she died in 2010, as well as mint in box Kamala doll pre-election, provided by a sister Kamala enthusiast, who was devastated as I was by the election outcome, a Breyer horse that looks like Pegasus, given to me by a horsewoman friend, as well as a Weird Barbie from the blockbuster Barbie film. I absolutely identify with the character.
Played by SNL alum Kate McKinnon, she was the standout for me, even though she was considered an outcast from the Barbie community. She became who she was because she was played with in ways not intended by the manufacturer. Her hair got cut and burned, and her face was disfigured by colorful markers by her child. She went into hiding in her own rainbow-hued tower above the pretty and delicate pink houses in which the Barbies lived. Her role was to help Barbies who were no longer in fashion.
One of the first things that jumped out at me is that I am Weird Barbie. While my hair is not spiky short anymore, there was a decade or so when it was. Even though I didn’t draw on my face with markers, I did sprinkle rainbow glitter on my face and hair. I still dress colorfully. I am not physically contortioned like she is and I can’t stretch my leg up the wall and could never do a full split even when I was young and flexible. People come to me to help them heal their emotional and mental wounds, and as a psychotherapist, I guide them to discover their own power and their own truth like she did.
Packing ushered me on a trip down memory lane as I recall who gave me some of the items or the circumstances by which I happened upon others. As I am propped up in my comfy bed, typing these words, I am gazing across the room to the dresser at a photo of my now 39 year old son when we were ever so much younger (I think he was 12), at a friend’s pool party, next to a collage photo of my now six year old grandson when he was an infant. In one of the images, I was cradling new born Dean in the hospital room, in another he is wearing a crocheted Baby Yoda hat and the other, he and Adam are excited about something as they are wearing matching daddy and kiddo outfits.
I am learning to enjoy fresh starts, which at 67, has become necessary. I work hard and have earned the fruits of my labor. In addition to my full time job as a social worker/therapist, I am also a journalist, ordained interfaith minister, speaker and PR and marketing professional, hence multiple streams of income. For years, I have been okay with settling for less, feeling frivolous if I spent too much on myself. My wise son reminds me that I deserve good things in my life. I sold my 12 year old car and bought my Subaru Crosstrek, in part because of their reliability, longevity and safety record, as well as their company ethos.
Their motto is “Love. It’s what makes Subaru Subaru.” They donate to various causes. They focus on environmental sustainability. All good things. I have named it Milagro Mariposa (Spanish for Miracle Butterfly). I believe fervently in miracles and my mother told me that when she died she would come back as a butterfly to assure me that she was still with me. That she has done so many times since 2010. I also replaced my sagging and decidedly uncomfy bed with a memory foam, adjustable one. I sleep so much better now and awake refreshed.
I also realize I have too much stuff. Have you heard the iconic George Carlin riff on the subject? After the carpet is in and I am unpacking, there will absolutely be donations ferried over to NOVA (Network of Victim Assistance). I decided that I want to spare my son and daughter in law the arduous task of cleaning my house out when my time comes, as I had done with my parent’s condo in Florida. I am purging gradually.
