“I want to pick up my purse, get in the car and go.”
That’s how Opal Broussard describes her plans for the move she and her husband, Harvey, are making at the end of this month, when they leave their New Iberia house of 50 years and head to Vermont.
Opal turns 79 this week. Harvey follows in July. They have already bought necessities for a small apartment they’ve rented in Vermont near the campground where they’ve spent summers for the past decade.
Harvey and Opal Broussard, with their dog Max, are moving from their New Iberia home to Vermont. Her goal was to get her purse, get in the car and go.
They are not packing boxes. They are not renting a storage unit. They are giving it all away, which is how I came to hear about their big adventure.
I’ve known the Broussards for 15 years. Years ago, I went to their home for a book club discussion. I recognized then that it was a house full of carefully chosen things — the kind that hold stories.
Opal and Harvey contacted me shortly after the August fire that destroyed our home. They asked me to come by and see if there was anything we could use. I said yes, grateful, but not fully understanding what they were doing.
When I visited their home in mid-January, the larger picture came into focus.
They are giving their things to friends and local nonprofits. They realized that their daughter was collecting her own stuff and didn’t need theirs.
So, what to do with the daybed for their grandson? The rolling desk for their sofa? The Bordallo Pinheiro green cabbage dishes? This is all accumulated evidence of decades lived carefully in one place.
”I used to make bread, and we had sourdough jars all over the place,” Harvey said of a foldable proofing box.
The couple has one daughter, and they are practical people. Like many who reach their late 70s, they have been thinking about what comes next.
In 2023, Harvey Broussard, of New Iberia, plays guitar at Lake Champlain campground’s annual singalong, pictured here with Quebecois visitors.
They don’t want their only child left with the emotional and logistical weight of sorting through a lifetime of belongings. They don’t want her to have to clean out a house making a thousand decisions in the fog of grief. They don’t want her to be responsible for arrangements that could be made now, while they are very much alive.
A book helped set their plan in motion. “All That Remains,” by Sue Black, led them to make arrangements to donate their bodies to science. If they die in Louisiana, they will donate to Tulane. If they die in Vermont, they have made arrangements with the University of Vermont.
They don’t speak of their decisions in a morbid way. Everything is practical and intentional, including their choice of Vermont.
In 2012, they went all the way to Eugene, Oregon, to buy a specific camper. It was the only one in the country with the lighter interior finish they wanted. The only problem was that they didn’t own a truck.
So they bought a truck the same day.
They drove to Oregon. At the camper lot, they took a few lessons. Opal climbed behind the wheel, drove the camper off the lot and through the mountains of Northern California, until she backed it neatly into its space at a campground.
For several summers, they chose a different state to explore in their camper — Arkansas, Georgia, Texas, Florida, Alabama.
“Like Arkansas,” Opal said, “I had no idea how beautiful Arkansas is.”
Eventually, their wandering took them to Vermont, a place Opal had wanted to see since elementary school, when she read a story about a traveling circus there. Once they found Vermont, the pattern changed.
They stopped choosing a new state each year and went back to Vermont.
They fell in love with a campground on Lake Champlain, becoming part of a community that returns year after year. Opal has learned to play mahjong and has made great friends. Harvey has met fellow musicians and plays guitar by the lake.
“I always thought I’d love Lake Champlain,” Opal said. “And I do.”
Last year, after nine consecutive Vermont summers, they rented a small apartment outside Burlington, about 30 miles from the campground. It’s next door to friends from the campground. They furnished it simply.
Opal has no regrets about letting go of things. Harvey admits he sometimes wonders whether he’ll need something later, but he is fully in the spirit of their adventure. He’s already set to play his guitar for a new young friend who will perform at his school later this spring in Vermont.
On Monday morning, Opal came across a quote attributed to Buddha and shared it with Harvey — and then read it aloud to me:
“In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.”
The Broussards are leaving New Iberia without the weight of what they no longer need. They’re excited about the future and clear-eyed enough to know they can always come back.
At an age when many people tighten their grip, Opal and Harvey Broussard are loosening theirs — trusting that what matters most doesn’t need to be packed.
‘ The preceding article may include information circulated by third parties ’
‘ Some details of this article were extracted from the following source www.nola.com ’
