Winning the Closet War

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

My mommy had this closet upstairs that daddy had made when we had the third floor constructed back in 1997. It is big enough to keep our clothes and other stuff. 

In the past few years, mom hasn’t opened or cleaned it; she knows tackling it can be overwhelming and it isn’t something she can do alone. Most of the things she kept there hasn’t been used in years and is practically garbage (after all, she has a separate closet and drawer for the clothes and stuff she actually use). But even if we tell her to get rid of some of the stuff in there, mom would go on a tirade and wouldn’t let us touch it. She’ll even blame me as to why she’s unable to organize it as much as she wanted to, saying my bed was blocking it.

In the past few months, we noticed a strong, musty smell coming from inside the closet. We would also see cockroach eggs and mouse droppings falling in very rare times we open it. We have called the attention of our mom many times, but she kept saying she’ll take care of it one of these days, which of course she never did. 

The next time my older brother opened it to check one of his suit jackets, he was shocked to see that the clothes has become a nesting and feeding area for cockroaches. No wonder I would sometimes have the worst allergy attacks even if I keep my area clean from dirt and dust.

But mom doesn’t seem to be alarmed about the obvious infestation. She told us to leave it to her and that one of these days she’ll fix it. That is, despite us telling her that the closet is beyond organizing and fixing because the mere inhalation of the acrid odor could be potentially harmful. We told her that it wouldn’t be safe for her and the kids. 

The pleas fell on deaf ears; all she’d say when we tell her that was: “Huwag niyong pakelaman `yan, aayusin ko yan!” (Leave it alone, I will handle it.) God knows we love our mom to death, but we are so close to wringing her neck sometimes. I don’t think her refusal to act on it is because she’s oblivious about the dangers her hoards present to herself and to other people living with her, but maybe it’s more of asserting her control in the household. 

Yes, my mom has hoarding tendencies but to be fair, mom can rival Marie Kondo in her younger years. She was a fantastic organizer, and we are in awe how she can fit a lot of things neatly in one spot. We grew up in a small but clean house. But as she got older, her hoarding progresses. She found it difficult to get rid of things and always had that need to save them. What was once a tidy house is now filled with her clutter. Every nook and cranny, trust that there’s mom’s stuff sitting there. Her refusal to part with a lot of items has become the common cause of our arguments and shouting matches with her.

My kuya and I would buy nice containers so we can throw away the unsightly empty bottles and plastic containers only to find it stacked inside cabinets. Mom’s one who would inspect our garbage to make sure we aren’t tossing anything there that she can still use. Last year, my kuya spent a fortune renovating the kitchen and it irks him now to see old pots and pans and containers taking so much space inside cabinets and on top of the counter.  

This old plastic catsup bottle, for example, I have thrown this very bottle twice but my mom would get it from the garbage. What it’s being used for exactly, we don’t know, but it’s been sitting on the sink.

Meanwhile, my nephews sleep with me upstairs in cushions on the floor. And because they’re getting bigger by the day, I thought it would be better to convert mom’s big closet to a spot where we can put a double deck bed for the kids. I told kuya about this and he liked the idea because at least the spot can be used and maximized instead of making it a breeding ground for pests. 

Convincing mommy was another story. “Saan ko ilalagay yung mga gamit ko?” (Where will I put my stuff?). We told her that the old clothes, curtains, pillowcases, etc. are beyond saving anyway. We cannot just dump it in a washer when there’s that risk of getting hantavirus and other pulmonary diseases. I would even forward her videos of the dangers of roach and mouse infestations just to prove it isn’t something we’re making up. But no, for the longest time, she stood her ground. 

Then one morning, finally, I was told that mommy agreed to take down the closet. I still don’t know how they talked her into it but kuya wasted no time and contacted someone to take it down before Mother Goose changes her mind. It was quite a shock seeing the actual state of the closet as soon as we took out everything. Apart from the roach and mouse infestation, we realized that the musty smell was coming from the damp clothes due to a hole in the ceiling where rainwater had been leaking. A lot of our stuff had disintegrated from the humidity. We showed this to my mom who then said we could still give it to people who might still have use for it. Mommy thought there’s nothing that a good laundry detergent and bleach can’t fix. Of course, we said that it’s not safe to give away roach-infested, mouse-peed clothes and so another round of argument ensued which ultimately end up with her giving all of us the silent treatment. 

Most of my old stuff toys have also been damaged so I have no choice but to throw it away too, save for a few that were kept in vacuum-tight plastic. My brothers also had to throw away most of their clothes kept inside to show mom that we all have our own sacrifices to make. I also tossed away books, photo albums, bags and other things that I had forgotten I owned. My ruthlessness to declutter won against any silly sentimentality. I thought, if my stuff has been kept inside for that long, then that only means I no longer have any use for it.

My mother has amassed incredible amount of garbage over the years. We can’t fathom her need to keep outdated, stained, and faded curtains. When we asked her why she’d kept it, she said she will still use it even if all our windows now have Korean blinds installed. Daddy had been dead for four years and yet most of his clothes are still stored somewhere. We also can’t understand why she kept all those oversized, out-of-fad jackets and winter coats that were sent by relatives in balikbayan boxes, only to say that we might still use it someday (never mind if we end up looking like MC Hammer). My mom has also kept those imported, hotel-quality, Cannon™ towels that she could have given us to use and now she insists we keep it when it’s already reeking of mold and mildew. As expected, another fight followed as we are all adamant in telling her we don’t want any of her hand-me-downs. 

By the end of the day, we have accumulated enough trash outside that a garbage truck had to be called as garbage collectors in carts can’t bring everything. The guy who took down the closet agreed it was such a waste of space when about 80% of it are stuff that we cannot salvage anymore.  

When the spot was cleared, my mom wasn’t at all amused. If for anything, she felt attacked and violated. What she doesn’t realize is that we always think of how she would feel and hurting her feelings is the last thing we want to do. If we were that inconsiderate as she thought, we could have easily thrown away a lot of her things—knowing that she doesn’t remember owning most of it anyway, but still we can’t bear doing that to her. We still ask her permission before getting rid of anything.

I believe that clutter can trigger anxiety and with all the other things (and people!) that stress me out these days, it is the easiest to remedy. All we need is that vehemence in letting go of things and the memories that come with it. The past couple of years I’ve been levelheaded in dealing with my own clutter. I throw/give away things that I no longer use without putting much thought to it. I can’t let it choke the very little space I have at home.

As the silent treatment from mom continues, so was the plan to convert the spot. The next day, kuya was in a frenzy mode and bought the kids the double deck frame and mattresses. He’s worried that mom would do a 180° and say that she wants a closet made on the same spot. If the frame and mattresses are already there, then she won’t have any choice anymore. 

In just two days the ceiling, walls and the flooring was complete. This is the only time mom somewhat softened her stance, when she saw that the kids are enjoying their new spot upstairs. The loving heart of the lola for her apos prevailed.   

Now I have my nephews as my roomies. The boys can be another level of stress, no doubt, but I’d take that rather than sharing a space with a dirty closet that reminds me of that garbage compactor on the first Death Star in Star Wars: A New Hope.

I did not make this post to embarrass my mom, but only to point out that while we understand why elderly people tend to hold on to their possessions, we also have to intervene if this could already affect other people. God knows we just want to have a clean space not just for us, but more importantly, for her and for the kids. 

We can’t even win against mom on so many things being that she’s still and will always be the undisputed queen of the house. But this time we did, and it was sweet.