Finding and remembering

I always found it odd that people would jump right into cleaning out belongings after a death. After my father died my mother went nuts cleaning out the house, putting things up for auction, and selling the property. There was little time to sort through keepsakes and take things we cherished. I was determined not to let that happen when she died, and fortunately circumstances have allowed us to be able to take our time, yet I feel the need to de-clutter.

I actually felt that way prior to her dying when I would go to The Condo during one of her many hospitalizations to pick up belongings, water plants, and oversee the bills. The Condo is darker since her remodeling that included deeper paint colors then the fish motif she once had, and with her hospitalized it seemed lonelier and more depressing then usual. I thought then how I would like to brighten up the place and get rid of nonsense she had strewn about and packed into various bookcases and entertainment center crannies. For someone who rid herself of a a huge Indiana house full of belongings, she sure didn't learn anything about keeping things small and simple.

Two days after she died her sister, my friend Kelly, and I swept The Condo to rid it of anything medical. The whole place just felt icky with oxygen tanks sitting in corners, medicine bottles on counter tops, and boxes of bandages and ointments lying around. This task led us into bathroom drawers and cabinets that were also full of hotel and hospital soaps and shampoos, a habit leftover from my father's traveling days and her childhood of nothing wasted, hair equipment that hadn't been used in years, and handfuls of expired ointments, oils, and lotions that grossed us all out. We rearranged furniture in the living room to make it more accessible for all the people that were coming in for the memorial service and we tossed out a desk that she had been wanting to get rid of for awhile. By the time we stopped for the day I was more motivated then ever to clean the place up.

Everyone left eventually days after her service and I was left with The Condo and the responsibility of it. What that entailed beside paying bills became clearer as phone calls started coming in from the condo association, the fire marshal, and various medical companies requesting pick-up of equipment. I needed to locate paperwork and equipment and that led me to the filing cabinet, to the bedroom closet, to the desk, and under the bed. Suddenly I understood why people had to jump into cleaning out belongings. I was having to thin out things just to locate the important things I needed immediately. As I did that, making piles for Goodwill, for Hospice, for a Food Bank, and for trash little found items would lead me to look for other things like pictures, writings, and items from my childhood. Little did I know but my mother kept more things from our house in Indiana.

It has been a sort of grieving and healing process going through her things. A favorite shirt can make me cry. A picture and note can get me intrigued. But my favorite is finding something that I remember from my childhood, from my days at 8200 in Indiana, because it reminds me of good times and my mother and father.

Whenever this little teapot came out of the cabinet it meant Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato Sandwiches for dinner with Indiana corn on the cob and Iced Sweet Tea. It is the only time I remember my mother making iced tea. And she never put enough sugar in it for us, but it was a treat nonetheless.

These glasses were in our cabinet, but we were not allowed to use them. I think my parents used them for cocktails with company, but the only memory I have of these glasses is that every year my Aunt Marilyn made our traditional Christmas Eve egg nog she put it in these glasses and passed them out. I thought we were oh, so fancy when we used them and I always felt grown up. Which I had to be since she spiked the nog with tons of dark rum.

This was one of those pieces that I dusted all the time, but never really knew what it was for. It is a box and I think it once held two decks of cards. It sat on the round, wooden table in our living room along with pieces of glass from the glass factory that my grandmother helped back financially.

This is all that is left of the Central Soya paper products that we had all over our house. I think I have a small pad in the box of stuff of my dad's, but this is all Connie had left. She kept it in a desk that the girls played in and I remember when I discovered what paper they were drawing on I was horrified. It is a collector's item! (In my mind)

This is the wooden salad bowl set from my childhood. I hated this set because it was not allowed in the dishwasher and had to be washed by hand. It is a beautiful set and we have already eaten a salad out of it. And I got to remind my girls that it had to be washed by hand!

I had no idea that my mother had these boxes (full of photos) tucked in a bin in the closet out on her porch. I had found three of these boxes in my Aunt Lorene's basement last summer and I told my cousin at my mom's memorial service that I wanted those boxes if he was going to toss them. My dad smoked these cigars his entire life and these boxes were all over our house storing odds and ends.

My dad worked in agriculture for Central Soya and the pig was one of the mascots used by the company. We had Master Mix pigs all over our house and then people started buying pig things for my dad so our house literally became a pig sty. This little gem was a napkin holder on our table for as long as I can remember. My mom had this on her computer desk holding paper so after using it as a napkin holder for a few days on my kitchen table I've moved it to my own desk.