Thursday, November 20, 2014

Handyman Special For Sale

Each time I unlock the door to her house, I'm struck with a sense of overwhelming sadness. Memories come flooding back even to that day years ago when we moved her from Fort Worth and carried her possessions inside.

The TV is off, the room is cold, mementos are scattered everywhere. These inanimate objects remind me of birthday celebrations, meals, new refrigerators, septic tank repair, skunks in the yard, trees planted, yards mowed, tornadoes, and days that will forever live in the past.

Children, grandchildren and great grandchildren have come and gone. So have two wiener dogs and a cat who shared this home with its two loving human parents.

Now the house lies vacant, silently waiting for me to empty it of all traces of the people who spent the last twenty years inside.
 Pictures on the walls, nick knacks on shelves, dishes in the cabinets, pans in the drawers, clothes in the closet, food in the cabinet, all wait for proper disposal.

My siblings have visited, taking with them any items to which they felt connected or which they presented as gifts over the years.

The vibes of these tangible items can be felt with eyes closed, holding these objects in hand, more clearly, sitting in a chair once occupied by the former residents.

Yet, nothing can replace those who resided here, two elderly women who wish they could still live in this small country home on half an acre, with its fenced yard and tiny storage shed; this handy-man special, double wide mobile home where their treasures on this earth remain and they do not.