My planners are my always present comfort... Prayers, writing a better story, and dreams...
Friends ask how I am doing, how I am sleeping, if I get out, do I like living here in Mom's-turned-my house? Uh.... insert shrug...I don't know. The best explanation I have is that I am digging out, truly and metaphorically, spiritually, financially (did anyone know that funerals cost over $9,000?). And physically. Sometimes as I lie in my bed in what is really now my bedroom but usually referred to as my bedroom in the dining room---I can literally smell the old dust from the boxes and dishes, the corners and cabinets I have dug through that day... Definitely NOT the lavender stuff dreams are made of! More like the Sandman I guess.
Overflow and lost... waiting for order and justice... and a warm, sudsy bath!
My parents were a team... of collectors, purveyors and then excellent curators of a lifetime of hand-selected items resplendent with stories, and I see them, eyes a-sparkle with the memories of how each piece got here... from there... and the little old German lady from Herman, Mrs. Haun, who was later featured in Country Living (and oh, yes, we have a copy of that issue). And she wrote long letters to my mother for years because the two sparked a kindred spirit in one afternoon... or an auction suggested by a long-bearded, Santa Claus twin in that off the road Orchard in Glasgow who carved me a wooden whistle and drove his mules instead of reindeer in Moberly's Christmas parade. And that just begins the flood of a lifetime of not things, but memories. Now I would never take their trips or their joy from all those day trips of auctions, flea markets, or shops... Not to mention the legacy of generational inheritances. I laughingly informed a dear friend today that I was "gasp!" mixing the dishes from my paternal and maternal grandmothers' separate but equal china cabinets. She told me she feared the china would argue in the night. I love my friends!
Today's final look after sorting...
Who knew?
I promise there will be shallow waters and recipes in this blog's future... But there has to be some deep reservoirs to shelter my truest thoughts, as well. It is nearly 3:00 AM.. Goodnight, dear friends... I sleep with the fragrant memories of both dust and vanilla candles... and a little bit of tonight's Movie Lover's popcorn...
Whimsy and Hugs!
2 comments:
Hi girl! I am on my laptop, so I can comment. Please know I read all your posts, I just cant comment from my phone. I think you are doing great if you are functioning at all. And you are doing so much more! My mother past away 3/29/2009. I am still sorting boxes. And crying. I am consolidating, but it is so hard to part with things that only I hold the memories from. One day at a time. And I LOVE your bunny plates!!!!
Oh my gosh, those words about missing your mom hit home with me. Mine has been gone for over a decade, and I was just thinking about how I missed caring for her at the end, sitting by her bed, chatting with my sisters as much as I missed the days of her silliness, giggles, and troublemaking when she was healthy.
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