Know when to fold them.

Despite the fact that when young, we think ourselves immortal...there comes an age when we realize we need to start folding them. Those next cards are twos, not aces.
I have come to that point in life. Reality is the light at the end of that tunnel is getting closer and with it the need to tie up loose ends. Planning for the future may mean a decade. Or a year. Those things we planned on one day are never going to happen.
Kids look ahead to decades and know they may have them to be, to do, to see and to have. I hear the saying, when I retire I will.
Will what? Pay your saving to medical bills? Get around with a walker? Feel like crap most of the time. Say to heck with it, not important anymore? Maybe the playtime kids of todays generations have the right idea.
My late husband was wild til he met me. Did that, done that. Time to change. He was lucky he did all he wanted for the most part before he met me. Because at the age of 39 he was diagnosed with chronic, progressive MS and by 41 was an invalid. His retirement was TV Land and the sofa. We talked about stuff and I said if something had meant that much, we would have done it. But, they were dreams in our coffee and we didn't bother.
I realize I can't protect my farm for eternity. Nor care for possessions that have been in my life. I read about the Swedish Death Cleaning. And it makes sense. So down sizing is not to rid myself of clutter. It is to see things that mean something to me, go where I know they will mean something to another.
It is hard to separate oneself from belongings that have filled my world, sometimes as long as I can remember. Things that have deep memories and were important in my life.
But, reality is when I die, will inheritors give a hoot? Or will it be hello auction, Goodwill and dumpster. Or scrapyard or flipper.
My husband was very close to his nephew. Gave him attention, played ball with him, rode him on the back of his cycle and tried to make up for a father who had better stuff to do than his kids. For thirty years his Harley Chopper has occupied a spot in my living room. If he couldnt ride, he could at least see it. But, it was part of us. Not just a classic worth money. So I did something I never thought I would do. I sold it to his nephew. Cheap. Came to find out he had wished it after husband died , but was too sweet to ask. Super pleased to get it and will pass it on to sisters son so it will stay in the family forever with its history.
Now 2 cars are gone with a third to go. His 70 Chevelle dream car. A hot rod in the vain of customizing in the era. We were working together to make it what he wanted...an SS in all but, name.
I know inheritor wished to own it and the bike. Could tell by his reaction when I told him sold them. But, not invested in either really except as cool. I never cared for Chevelles. The car was husbands. Guy stopped to look at the 63 for sale. We talked, I mentioned sold off a Camaro and two Chevelles. He asked, anymore Chevelles..his dream since a kid who got to ride in one.Hmmm..yes, not advertised. So got the keys and into the garage to show him. Someone who agreed it was worth what I did. Someone who appreciated what is is. And now it is HIS dream.
My dads tractor is up for sale also. Go where I SAY, to whom I decide!
Onward I go. Big or small. Will I EVER use it, wear it..can I live without it or miss it. If the answer is no, find it a home myself so I can sit with memories and photos and not worry my valued is someones elses trash.