This weekend is momentous because we are planning to clear out the crawl space. Some people don’t know what a crawl space is. All I can tell you, since this is my childhood home from the age of 1, is what the Kenyon Court crawl space looks like.
Not many people can stand in the crawl space at Kenyon. The ceiling is about 5 feet high, max. A recipe for back problems, for sure. This is why we send the kids in there the grab items of seasonal importance if at all possible. Here’s what it looks like when you do the crawl space crawl:
The crawl space is in the basement of the house. The air is different in there. Is it the cherished memories and the seasoned history? No. It’s just a bunch of old stuff that hasn’t been ventilated well for too long.
It’s just a big & long space. I would estimate (poorly, I’m sure) that it is about 100 feet long. It is to me a marvelous symbol of walking literally through the years as you do your “hunched over – slipped disc walk” down this longer-than-it-is-wide cave.
It’s literally loaded with the old treasures of many people– even people who aren’t in our family, oddly. It is almost as if, when a life-change happened, we needed to pare down, change it up, simplify.
We did not, however, think we need to throw these items away, nor did we ever think about them again; it’s that strange life crossroad. And when you come to that transition intersection (at the corner of Worn Out Avenue and New Dream Boulevard, perhaps) this is the kind of place where you make decisions.
For instance, you decide you’re not really a skier anymore, so you can store your ski gear. Of course someday you’ll pick it back up again because, of course, ski gear never changes. Those good old straight sticks will be just as fast going down the slopes as the guy with the new parabolic fiberglass jobbers. You get the picture, I’m sure.
We drop things off with hopes for returning to them again. And most of the time, that transition or intersection we found ourselves in, mean a pretty permanent change in our life style and life choices. If we knew it at the time, the full breadth of what this new place would bring, we wouldn’t be able to handle it. The progressive revelation of what change means in our lives make the crawl space a really important place. I safety valve for the possibility that we could return to that old pastime if needed.
And so this place is a disorganized time capsule at best and a hoarders dream at worst.
We’re already gearing up for the many concentrated conversations that will have to happen with my parents about what is “keep” and what is not. May they be conversations peppered more with funny memories of people long past in the timeline of our family than the stark, transactional “what pile does this belong in” transaction.
And of course I wish the same for you, when you find yourself in your time capsule clean out moment.
I’ll let you know how it goes – if I can crawl out of the crawl space intact, that is.
At what intersection do you find yourself these days? What are the street names? (This could get entertaining).