Going through my bookcases to decide which books to keep, store, or give away, in advance of my upcoming move back to Mexico, I came across my well-marked-up paperback copy of Tim O’Brien’s now classic 1990 short story collection, The Things They Carried, based on his service in Vietnam.
I stopped my packing efforts to reread the first story, after which the book is titled. In almost hypnotic cadences, O’Brien repeats the phrases, “the things they carried” or “they carried” throughout this chapter to help us understand these young servicemen and what mattered to them as they faced the terrifying unknowns of jungle warfare. For example:
“They carried USO stationery and pencils and pens. They carried Sterno, safety pins, trip flares, signal flares, spools of wire, razor blades, chewing tobacco, liberated joss sticks and statuettes of the smiling Buddha, candles, grease pencils, The Stars and Stripes, fingernail clippers, PsyOps leaflets, bush hats, bolos, and much more. Twice a week, when the resupply choppers came in, they carried hot chow in green marmite cans and large canvas bags filled with iced beer and soda pop. They carried plastic water containers, each with a 2-gallon capacity. Mitchell Sanders carried a set of starched tiger fatigues for special occasions. Henry Dobbins carried Black Flag insecticide. Dave Jensen carried empty sandbags that could be filled at night for added protection. Lee Strunk carried tanning lotion. … They carried the sky … they carried gravity.”
What it’s coming down to for me now, as I face the unknowns involved in packing to move to Mexico, is this: triage. Dividing my already relatively meager belongings (I went through a first pass last spring before leaving for Guanajuato for the summer) into three categories – those that remain in my Taos condo, which I hope to soon rent for the first year I’ll be away, those that I give away or throw away, and those that I’ll pack to take with me. I’m still in the process of deciding what I can finally let go of, and what I must carry.
This, as I alluded to in a previous WOW view, “Travel Light,” posted last January, is a process countless Americans in my age group are going through right now, and I’m sure we’re all finding it both difficult and liberating. We’re downsizing our lives and possessions to fit our new, post-retirement status. We’re closing big old doors and walking, by faith, toward smaller new ones, whether those new doors are in a new county or a new country with a lower cost of living.
My mother, I remember, wasn’t able to do this. I have a vivid memory of her standing over boxes in the basement of our family home — boxes filled with her four grown children’s childhood toys and games and dolls – holding her head with both of her beautiful hands and weeping. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t pack and leave the red-brick house she’d loved for four decades and all the memories it contained, even when her longtime boyfriend offered to marry her upon her imminent retirement and move with her to a cottage he’d bought for them on Shelter Island. She never made it to Shelter Island. She died in her home of brain cancer within two years.
In this, as in other ways, I intend not to follow my mother’s path. I’ve been trying to learn how to let go, turn corners, and move on. I am no longer a caterer, so I don’t need so many baking pans and so much kitchen equipment. I am no longer a college English instructor, so I don’t need quite so many books, three-ring notebooks and papers. In Mexico I won’t need winter boots, bulky winter coats, or wool scarves and gloves; so I’ve given them all away.
Of course I’ll need to pack necessities – warm-weather clothes and shoes, as well as toiletries and such. And I’ll pack my “toys” too – sewing machine and sewing supplies, paint sets and pads, blank notebooks and journals, this MacBook Air. Everything else will have to be small, lightweight, and unbreakable, things of sentimental, inspirational, can’t-live-without value. Among these, so far, I know I’ll be packing:
* The tattered red King James Bible my first boyfriend, a member of the church in NJ I attended in my early teens, gave me for Christmas in 1958, inscribed inside, “…always remember that ‘all things work together for good to them that love God’ (Romans 8:28), Love, Dick” and underlined throughout in red pencil.
* The battered Penguin paperback of N.J. Dawood’s English translation of The Koran – a must-read for all non-Muslims, I feel — from which I read inspirational passages every morning when I lived in predominantly Muslim Mali for three years (1998 to 2001). Its lyrical messages, such as this one, uplifted me every day: “It is He [God] that has created for you the stars, so that they may guide you in the darkness of land and sea” (6:97).
* A brass candleholder, the sole survivor of a pair my grandmother bought for me in Maine in 1961, when I, at sixteen, spent the summer with her on Penobscot Bay and helped her with her work. Perhaps this might help light the way.
* My mother’s manicure set, in its blue, zippered case: A reminder to me that my hands will never be, no matter what I do, as beautiful as hers.
There’ll be more such items, I know. I’m still in the process of packing — and proceeding on faith.
As with the soldiers in Tim O’Brien’s book, it’s the small things we carry, for comfort or good luck, that define us.
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I so enjoy your writing, Bonnie. Congratulations on some big life decisions. It’s always interesting to follow you. Downsizing is never easy, but it truly is a reality as we move forward in decades. I can’t wait to hear more–you are an inspiration!
Thank you, Janet! I hope to share more of my Mexican adventures in future posts. 🙂
Such beautiful, powerful and uplifting words that speak to me with such wisdom in the place I am in life right now. I can see your red brick house and can feel, across the years, your mother’s anguish. My mother was the same. It is so hard to learn that things are in fact just things- their meaning and memory can stay with us as we choose. without the burden of physicality. I wish you much happiness and fulfillment ahead in your new home.
Thank you for your lovely words and memories, Barbara. Are you downsizing now too?
I’m in the same process, Bonnie. Nice to be reminded that there are many others sorting through items, memories, and emotions. You inspire me to persevere. When are you moving?
Thanks so much for your empathy, Helen! I hope to be leaving early Dec. What are your plans?
My favorite line: “I’m still in the process of deciding what I can finally let go of, and what I must carry.” I don’t envy your process, but I do trust your discernment. You’ll no doubt get through this, too, and feel lighter and freer than ever.
Thank you, Barb. I’m looking forward to feeling lighter and freer!
Great post! Very insightful and I’m thrilled you’ll be heading this way. I hope you didn’t get rid of the winter scarves and gloves yet because you possibly will need here in Dec/Jan and part of Feb. I had to buy those after I got here!
When I moved down all I brought were books and art. Got rid of so much it took 5 garage sales and sales to friends of all the rest. It was the freest I ever felt. Good luck with all of your upcoming adventures. I assume you have already obtained a place to live………..?? I’ll be here til the 26th of December and then I leave til the 1st of March. Safe travels.
Thank you for your kind words and good wishes, Babs! I look forward to seeing you in SMA.
Hi Bonnie, I’m relatively knew to your blog and was wondering why you are making a permanent move to Mexico. I came on board here as you prepared to return to Taos after your summer trip. Having spent some time vacationing in Taos and Santa Fe (places I loved visiting), I am curious as to why you are leaving there. Nevertheless, I wish you a safe and happy journey to your new home. I look forward to hearing much more from you in you new home.
Thank you for subscribing, Sara, and for your comment. To answer your main question: I’m going to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, for a year to see whether I’d like to retire there. As I’ve written (mostly between the lines) in previous posts, now that I’m retired from teaching and I’ve reached the pivotal age of 70, I’d like to live simply and happily in a warm climate. My Social Security will go much farther in Mexico. My only asset, my small condo in Taos, will (I’m trusting) earn money for me so I no longer have to worry about working to support myself. The USA is a great place to live, if you have sufficient money; but if you don’t — especially as a single, self-supporting older woman — it’s not. I hope this answers your questions. Thank you for your good wishes. — Bonnie
I wish you the absolute best in your new home and surroundings. Sam Miguel de Allende has been on my ‘hope to visit’ list for a long time so I look forward to reading all of your future postings. Be well.
Thank you for all your well-wishes, Sara. I’ll keep you posted! 🙂
Wonderful read Bonnie. Perserverance has always been a good character trait. When the specificity of ‘downsizing’ was replaced by the more ambiguous ‘resizing’ it seemed to give me more leeway in deciding what I wanted to keep upon retirement and moving back to Mexico seven years ago after a lifetime of acquiring things while working and living abroad on three continents for over forty years. My ‘resizing’ muse became my best friend during the eight years (’93-’01) I lived in Shanghai, Tony Gao, half Chinese-half Brit, born in Shanghai, that I nicknamed ‘Generalissimo’ after he grew a moustache and looked like General Chiang Kai Shek of the Nationalist Kuomintang who battled Mao’s Communists for supremacy over the Middle Kingdom and lost, looting most of China’s museums when he fled to Taiwan. When Tony’s parents were forced to flee Shanghai in 1960 after ten years of Communist rule and moved to Houston where Tony went to university, Tony was allowed to bring only two suitcases of belongings with him. Tony never recovered from the trauma of exile and loss of his family’s vast industrial-textile fortune, and although half a century later after becoming a successful international businessman, he still keeps all his possessions in two suitcases.
Thank you so much for this, cher Horacio! You can be sure, though, that I’ll be bringing more than two suitcases with me to San Miguel! 🙂
Hello Bonnie, so happy for you! I do know those feelings…as we move on to other chapters of our lives, so poignant in many ways. Wakie wakie…as you move on down a different hall! I am currently managing the Sangre De Cristo House Transitional Living Program for women, and we are looking for kitchen items amongst other things, reading materials, cloth (we do have a sewing machine that was donated) but no material…you know the struggles of a start up program! I wish you well…get in touch. You can see us on You Tube, Sangre De Cristo House – Pena Blanca. Have a great day. Dolores
Thank you for this, Dolores! I’ll keep your program in mind as I continue my packing/purging efforts. Much love, BB