When The Dust Settles

It is dusty in my apartment. Unbelievably dusty. Sneezy, eyes watering, antihistamine dusty.
 
Now, dust is a fact of life in New York City. I have visited people's homes all over, and nowhere but here does the dust start accumulating as soon as you create a new surface.
 
In this case, however, it is a cloud of dust somewhat of our own making. For, while dust happens daily, the kind of dust I'm talking about here is the "when you go through things, you find it" kind of dust. And, as many of the things we are going through are twenty year (or more) old things--well, you do the math. These aren't dust bunnies. They are dust dinosaurs.
 
So, I am sneezing.
But I am hopeful. I am hoping that when the dust settles...
 
...We will have found some long lost somethings.
 
...We will have eliminated some of the somethings that have done nothing for us but gather dust for twenty years.
 
...We will have fought over what to keep and what to toss, and reconciled over the results.
 
...We will have remembered good things that get forgotten in the rush of daily life and growing kids.
 
...We will have smiled over baby pictures and preschool art.
 
...We will have reminded ourselves that it's possible to keep the memories without keeping every single memento.
 
...We will have created pathways, both concrete and abstract ones, that we can use going forward.
 
...We will have shown our kids that cleaning up can be more than just a weekly chore, it can be an opportunity for discovery.
 
...We will have created an environment with a little less dust and a little more function.
 
...We will be a little more equipped  for living here comfortably, and for for moving from here, should we ever need to.

...We will have created a space that is more open, more workable, and more "us now" than "us then."

I am still sneezing--the dust hasn't quite settled yet, except in my head. But I'm beginning to see through it. When the dust settles, I can tell, the picture's going to be a whole lot clearer.