Get your Shit in Order
On Tuesday we drove into Toronto to pick up a couple of boxes my brother-in-law had set aside of my sister's belongings. We also were taking the iron bed we had provided for Marilyn in February when I realized she was sleeping on a mattress on the floor.
How sad it was to get there and see the bed made, sheets and all. He said that we were to take it all - sheets - blankets - pillows. I think he couldn't deal with the bed.
It was sobering for me to see all her clothes were gone - and all her toiletries, make-up. It was brutal, but such a necessary task for him to complete. I hope her things were donated, but I didn't ask. This has been surreal - seeing how quickly we are erased. We think we leave a mark, but really, once our stuff is gone - where are we? I suppose those of us who have children leave behind memories they have of us.
In the boxes he had set aside were a sad mix of jewelry and photographs. It was a mess - like it had been tossed into the boxes. A huge tangle of chains. Any gold and silver tangled with a lot of 1990s [crazy] costume jewelry.
We drove from Toronto all the way to Eldest Son's house in the country - where we left the bed and mattress in a spare room for Evee when she is bigger. The iron bedframe had been my Great-grandmothers - and the history of this old bed just keeps on growing. New generation now.
We didn't get home until after 9pm - I felt bludgeoned - but stayed up late - untangling - sorting - touching - the jewelry. Librarian that I am - I sorted the tiny pins into one small baggie - the pins she got from working at the University of Toronto - the pins from CGIT she had been a member of when she was a child. The baby bracelet.
What this keeps telling me over and over is that we really need to get our shit together before we die. I mean those tiny bits in our jewelry boxes - sort, label and toss the crap. Declutter. I have a tiny box of gold in my drawer - some rings of my mothers - some from husband - and unless I label them - their importance - the history is lost.
Then I wonder - is the history really important at all? Are we supposed to fade away, is that more natural. Time passes, stuff vanishes, memories fade.
I'm on the fence with that, being a member of Ancestry.ca and having my 18th great grandfather King Edward I. Just saying.
So I end this sad post - a little blue, a lot tired.
How sad it was to get there and see the bed made, sheets and all. He said that we were to take it all - sheets - blankets - pillows. I think he couldn't deal with the bed.
It was sobering for me to see all her clothes were gone - and all her toiletries, make-up. It was brutal, but such a necessary task for him to complete. I hope her things were donated, but I didn't ask. This has been surreal - seeing how quickly we are erased. We think we leave a mark, but really, once our stuff is gone - where are we? I suppose those of us who have children leave behind memories they have of us.
In the boxes he had set aside were a sad mix of jewelry and photographs. It was a mess - like it had been tossed into the boxes. A huge tangle of chains. Any gold and silver tangled with a lot of 1990s [crazy] costume jewelry.
We drove from Toronto all the way to Eldest Son's house in the country - where we left the bed and mattress in a spare room for Evee when she is bigger. The iron bedframe had been my Great-grandmothers - and the history of this old bed just keeps on growing. New generation now.
We didn't get home until after 9pm - I felt bludgeoned - but stayed up late - untangling - sorting - touching - the jewelry. Librarian that I am - I sorted the tiny pins into one small baggie - the pins she got from working at the University of Toronto - the pins from CGIT she had been a member of when she was a child. The baby bracelet.
What this keeps telling me over and over is that we really need to get our shit together before we die. I mean those tiny bits in our jewelry boxes - sort, label and toss the crap. Declutter. I have a tiny box of gold in my drawer - some rings of my mothers - some from husband - and unless I label them - their importance - the history is lost.
Then I wonder - is the history really important at all? Are we supposed to fade away, is that more natural. Time passes, stuff vanishes, memories fade.
I'm on the fence with that, being a member of Ancestry.ca and having my 18th great grandfather King Edward I. Just saying.
So I end this sad post - a little blue, a lot tired.
Apart from any genetic material we may or may not pass on to children, we live on only in the memories found in others' hearts and minds. So we should be careful to leave them with good memories, if possible, I think. But you're right -- what we own and what we have done/accomplished do not create any kind of immortality for us. And once we are no longer in anyone's living memory, we truly fade away. But that is the fate of all, except a few exceptionally good or exceptionally bad people.
ReplyDeleteYes, so true! It's much quieter to be a simple, good-as-possible person. Then you simply fade away into fuzzy-happy memories.
DeleteOh my gosh I am so glad you found me, but I am so sorry for what you have been through, its so sad our lives come down to a baggie of bits and pieces,, but thats it,, when my Mum died, she wanted all her stuff cleaned out so there would be no mess, she was terminal and it was close to the end,, I think she thought it made it easier if we did while she was a live, after she died I went through and wrote things down , about stuff I had so my kids would know,, it took me for ever and I don't have much,, but as the years past I realized what we leave behind are memories not things, I got rid of all that stuff or gave it to my kids now,, I keep nothing,, I can hear the sadness in your voice through your words and I wish I could give you a hug,,
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