Friday, March 18, 2011


My things, her things, our things, and his things. STUFF. We all have it, well almost all of us. At least those who live in the U.S. have it. An over abundance of STUFF. I was having a problem dealing with it all.

When my mom came to live with us we had to bring a lot of her STUFF, useful stuff, needed stuff, but stuff, here to our house. She needed a lot of it and what she didn't need we tried to sell or give it away. That process meant boxes, boxes, and BOXES of every size and shape lining the living room. We left a small path in the middle where nurses, therapists, emergency personnel, doctors, and an occasional friend could walk through. After all the STUFF was absorbed, sold, or handed out, there was a living room and dining room again. It took a lot of hard work but I did it. Well, to tell the truth, the two women who came to work here caring for my mom cleaned the floors, the bathrooms, and dusted. They were paid by her and worked mostly with her. Of course I did all the cooking, the clothes, and the beds. Even with the help I rarely sat down during the day. Regardless, most of the STUFF was out of sight for whatever reason. Until...

Mom's funeral was November 20th. In a couple of days it was Thanksgiving but I didn't feel real thankful, except for Golden Corral and take out. In December her house sold and all the contents had to be out by December 28th. Christmas was when? Reminds me of the phrase, "YOU WANT IT WHEN!"

Now, all of her furniture, clothes, pots and pans, dishes, towels, nick-knacks, hair rollers, deodorant, pictures, blankets, sheets, face creams, shampoo, nail clippers, a small book of phone numbers of friends who had mostly gone on before her, Bibles, DVDs, music, and all the normal things we collect is, you guessed, here. What do you do with all the STUFF? I'm trying not to form emotional attachments to the STUFF but it's hard not to. Sitting on the floor of her bedroom all alone, sorting her clothes, I cried my eyes out. I thought, so your life just boils down to someone going through all the STUFF you dusted, cleaned, washed, ironed, fretted over, paid a fortune for, paid insurance on, and hoped no one would steal. Now I'm going through it and wondering what to keep and add to my STUFF, what to sell to someone else for their collection of STUFF, or what to give to some poor sole who needs some STUFF.

I'm dealing with all her STUFF, my STUFF, and our STUFF. Plus all the emotional STUFF. Maybe I'll fold it like a blanket and put the emotional STUFF away. I wrote deceased by her name in the small book of phone numbers of her friends. She had written deceased, died, or gone by nearly everyone else's name. There is just one person left in that little book. I'll keep it with her STUFF. Maybe some day I'll find out if she's gone too. Wonder who will keep, sell, or give away her STUFF?

I'd better deal with my STUFF now so some poor sole doesn't have to do it after me. Man, that's going to take some doing.

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