My husband, The Brit, and I have been living together since January 2006, marrying in March of that year. When two people of our generation forge a connubial relationship, they bring along lots of baggage, and boy, we each had more than our share!

I don’t mean emotional baggage. I mean material baggage. You know—all that flotsam and jetsam we all collect over a lifetime. For some reason we cling to these things like life preservers when, in reality, we are only hoarding objects from the past when some are best let go.

I sat my husband down for a frank discussion. It was time to release some of the things that had become detritus and were holding us back from enjoying our senior years more fully.

Why, for example, were we still storing several bowling trophies won more than 25 years ago when he and his late wife were in a league? What was I doing holding on to stacks of notebooks, art slides, and art history texts I once used to teach?

Our closets were filled with clothes and shoes we no longer wear. One entire shelf was filled with loafers and dress shoes he could not wear due to neuropathy. I could not tell you that last time I was able to amble in heels or 2-inch wedge sandals. We now both wear Sketchers brand shoes and dress for comfort.

Things had also piled up in closets, our carport shed, on shelves, in drawers, and in not-so discreet corners. After a series of severe asthma attacks last month, I realized that all this clutter was unhealthy and needed to go—but where to start?

The task had become so overwhelming I found myself exhausted just contemplating the work. Well, if there are some things strange cluttering your living room mood, who ya gonna call? Clutter busters! That’s what I needed, and I found one in Serena Paulus, owner of Serene Spaces.

Serena is what is known, in her industry, as a professional organizer. She is an amazing goddess of efficiency and charm, and I have known only two other women like her.

One was my grandmother who, when her home burned to the ground, went through items neighbors had managed to rescue from the flames. She picked up a small throw rug, and other bits and pieces, exclaiming as she pitched them back into the flames, “This should have been thrown out long ago!”

The other is her daughter, who I call Mom. No one can clear the decks like this woman! She has a method she calls “walking the walls.” She goes through a room one wall at a time clearing, cleaning, and organizing like some kind of orderly genius. Mom is the Einstein of cleaning and her “theory of relevant-ivity” is if it’s no longer relevant it goes in the trash!

Serena’s business is well named because she restored complete serenity to our living space. She took a task that I found overwhelming and made short, efficient work of it. She never judged us, or our mounds of clutter, and lavished praise as I made quick decisions to clear out one stack after another of useless items.

By the time we were done, I had filled numerous construction bags with donations for local charities. Several others items made their way into our annual community yard sale.

One bone of contention between The Brit and me was an Italian inlay musical wine cart he had bought many years ago for his late wife. We both agreed that it took up space and had no purpose. The Brit waffled, and Serena suggested that he would always have the memory and perhaps someone else would enjoy it. She wound the music box to see if it worked and it tinkled out the tune to “Edelweiss.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “You bought your Jewish wife, a woman you loved, a music box that plays ‘Edelweiss?’”

We all laughed and he let the wine cart go. A lovely lady bought it with great delight.

I was also thrilled to be rid of an overstuffed club chair the size of Rhode Island (thank God it’s one of the smaller states!) and matching ottoman.

The yard sale was quite successful. Although, several times hairy men would walk through asking, “Got any tools?” I responded to each one, “No, I’m married to an Englishman. When something needs fixing I call guys like you who have tools.”

Serena also persuaded me to purge the house of all throw rugs. “You have asthma,” she reminded me. “These are dust traps.”

She was right, but it meant remembering to wear slippers when we get out of bed. This is because we own a senior shih tzu whose bladder control isn’t always as reliable as it used to be. We also have a cat who, asthma be damned, we adore. She’s really not much of a shedder at all, probably because she meticulously grooms herself.

Of course, this means occasional hairballs, often left in conspicuous locations on our large master bathroom floor. Believe me, because of the dog’s occasional mishaps and the cat’s strategically-placed hairballs, I always don my slippers when getting out of bed, especially in the middle of the night. The Brit usually forgets, which leads to cursing and gnashing of teeth on his part and much merriment and amusement on mine.

We are far from finished with our household purge. Serena will soon bring her magic to our carport, shed, and teenager’s bedroom. This latter space is a project unto itself and may require an exorcist first!

But the rest of the house now has an open, lighter feel to it. There are fewer surfaces to dust and clean. Tchotchkes are limited to a few special treasures, and the house feels larger with all the rugs gone, revealing cherry wood floors.

At the end of each day, as the sun sets, it casts a soft, warm, apricot glow in our dining room. I look forward to it each day as I make tea for my handsome Brit as we relax in our serene space!

Ariel Waterman needs apricot scones to go with her tea. Send her some via Managing Editor Joe Payne at [email protected].

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