The next day we focused on sorting Mom’s remaining clothes. Siblings 1 & 3 had sent a box home to themselves before they departed. Sister 2 had gone through and selected some items already. I got the leftovers. It was exhausting to look at them all and remember how she liked certain outfits. Her favorite color was teal.
I then had to try on the outfit to make certain that it fit. Sadly, I am a bit too large for a lot of her clothes. I don’t like to wear white and some of the fashions don’t fit my preferences. I still managed to fill a box. Not the method that I wanted to expand my wardrobe. I also inherited some of her tennis shoes and underwear. Disappointed that one of my sisters absconded with the bright shirt that I brought back for Mom from Hawaii.
Opened the hallway closet and found a stash of sugar and flour. Mom loved to bake and must have run out of storage room in the kitchen. It was hard for her to climb stairs so this was her alternative location. There were lots of handbags, which Mom didn’t use. Her mom had a collection, which should have been auctioned off when she died. Grandma Daisy compulsively bought purses.
For a person who rarely wore jewelry, Mum had oodles. I presume that some of it she inherited from her mother who died fifteen years ago. Mom loved butterflies and would occasionally wear a butterfly necklace. She did not have pierced ears and didn’t like to wear clip-ons. I received a pearl necklace that Dad had sent Mom when he was stationed in Japan during the early 1950s.
Dad is overwhelmed by Mom’s stuff. Shifting of the boxes made us both sneeze. He is at least taking the time to sort through the items but I fear that he will just start throwing boxes out without looking at the contents. I have offered to return but it is emotionally draining work. I don’t want to erase the existence of my mother.
An individual is not defined by their “stuff.” It is about relationships and being remembered fondly. Dad received almost 200 cards and nearly $1,000 in donations (that he is aware of). Once I heal a bit more, I will strive to write down her stories. You will never have the opportunity to meet my mom, dear reader, but I want you to know her through me.
Tell your loved ones that you love them today!
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved