A fresh start?

A little more than a year ago, I was on the fence about moving into my grandmother's old house. We had been renting our old place for $400 a month , and for that price, we had a full two-bedroom house and basement on a few acres of land. Its location sat a few convenient feet away from my sister's house and just five houses down from my parents' house. While it sometimes seemed a bit too close for comfort, having such a strong family network helped out a lot when I needed a respite from my husband's addictions.

There were a few big drawbacks to that old place. The biggest was its septic system. Living at the edge of the rural water grid meant that our house used an old concrete septic tank. Country dwellers know that a septic tank has its advantages as well as its disadvantages. The biggest plus to the septic system is that it can be a very environmentally conscious way to handle waste. The waste goes into a holding tank and eventually gets broken down until it can move out into the drain field. What little isn't broken down gets left in the tank, to be suctioned out every few and driven away in a tank.

This all works pretty well, unless, of course, you mess with the system. While I can't say that we were the entire problem to the old concrete tank, our massive loads of antibacterial cleaners probably didn't help much. It wasn't too long after we moved in that our kitchen sink started to belch out nasty smells when we flushed. Other times, it would just start backing up with water while someone took a shower. We would scramble into the kitchen with a can of air freshener when someone used the bathroom. We had to make sure that we sanitized the sink before we did dishes.

Another drawback to the septic system is when something goes wrong, it can be a pain to figure out the issue. Another is that many of the people who repair septic systems would rather sell you an expensive replacement than they would to help you find out where the problem is. Even getting them out there can be expensive. That's why it took months for our landlord to get someone out there, and they eventually tried to get it fixed themselves. I'm not entirely sure that it has ever gotten fixed, but the septic problems combined with the constant stress of late rent payments drove us to find other arrangements. This house.

I knew we weren't getting anywhere with the way we were living at the old place, but I still hate the idea of moving into my grandmother's house. Even though she's been dead since 2004, there were many things in here that remained just as she had left them. The china cabinet still held vintage glassware, smudged with a patina of dust held hostage by cigarette residue. The kitchen still had her chrome-and-green table and ratty chairs, plus shelves of old cookware and containers. There were even two shelves of home-canned food, now more than a decade out of date.

My husband made efforts to erase the visible memories from the house. He spent hours here, cleaning, ripping up moldy carpeting, and taking down damaged ceiling tiles. We removed furniture and packed up several boxes worth of mementos/junk to take to their new home in my dad's garage. Even though my husband made some valiant efforts, it took months before I was able to spend time in the house without feeling like I was just an interloper in a shrine to grandma.

A big problem with this is, even though we have taken a lot out of the house, there are still plenty of vestiges available. We took out the living room furniture, but we still have her complete dining room set, including table, chairs sideboard and and china cabinet, as well as an entire bedroom set, which has a dressing table and chest of drawers in addition to the bed frame. In a larger house, they could be relegated to a basement. In this smaller place, the furniture stands guard in their designated rooms, ensuring that we never forget the former residents.

I would really like to get rid of these things. None of it is particularly worth anything, either monetarily or sentimentally. Right now, this stuff just takes up space. I would have already gotten rid of it by now, except that my dad still wants to hang onto the stuff. This stuff is even more firmly entrenched in his childhood than it is in mine. I would be happy to take it to his house, but he doesn't have the space there. So, here it remains.

I feel like my personal history kind of acts in the same way that this furniture does. It reminds me of my old selves, those pieces of me that don't quite fit anymore with who I want to be. I think I would love to be able to find a clean, uncluttered conscience when I close my eyes at night, but still I trip over boxes and boxes of mental embarrassment. I have nowhere to store it out of the way, and it seems as if there is no place to discard anything.

Do other people have these kinds of feelings? How do you get rid of that kind of baggage? Is there such a thing as a fresh start?