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.


  1. Hello Peg. So very much of the responsibilities seem to fall on your shoulders. They led rich lives and you were a big part of that as you still are.

    1. Hello Mckbirdbks, Thanks so much for stopping in today. This is one of the most difficult of the tasks which has been weighing heavy on my mind. I was so tempted to bring them here to enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday, yet for the ever present danger of poor eyesight, poor hearing and the risk of falling combined with the sadness of having to leave it behind again.

  2. Dear Peg,

    I can so very much relate to this as I went through Mom's house...filled with so many treasures, memories, pieces of her...there is a hollowness to knowing that 'you can never go home' in the way things used to be...

    My heart and love is sent to take every day as it comes, enjoying small moments of happiness and everyday miracles in this upcoming year.

    Love and hugs to you and your beautiful family, Maria

    1. From your experience with this sobering responsibility, you can certainly understand the ambivalence and difficulties this task brings to light. There is no turning back at this point. When I take things (like a favorite piece of jewelry) to Mom that she wants, when she asks me to take them home again, later she will ask for them with no memory of having had them the first time. She realizes her memory is fading and it is sad for her and us all. Your kind words and support mean the world to me as I'm sure you know and understand.
      Take care and hug that beautiful furry boy of yours. Love.