Chapter 13 You Don’t Really Know Someone Until You Sort Through Their Things – September 9 Ok, so 2 months have come and gone. My son and I decided that he should move into the house to watch it while I am gone and save up some money to buy his own (or this one) someday. I offered to move into the basement. Before we bought the house in 1991 the basement was an apartment. Being first time home-owners we could not get a loan and have a tenant. Anyway, I start going through the kitchen cupboards in an attempt to free up some space for Ryan’s things. I boxed up about 40 coffee and cappuccino mugs that have no specific endearing meaning to me. I also counted a mere 50 or so plastic containers for left-overs and bake goods. Even though Wanda, the consummate clean freak, was talking down-sizing as if it were a religion, I was amazed by the things that were stuffed up in the cupboards and under the sink. Mind you, she did get rid of massive amount of stuff last spring, but didn’t scratch the figurative top of the iceberg. I then proceeded to the spare bedroom in the basement. There is an under-the-stairs closet and this too is inventoried every spring with literal PILES of unwanted or unneeded items tossed out in the belief that “I don’t want to have to have our families dig through and decide what to do with all this STUFF!!” My late wife was a manically frugal individual, as I am too. She would joke that our annual clothing allowance was probably, oh, $50. She had in the course of our grandchild’s three and a half years on this earth bought, at a quarter here, or a nickel there or was given: (Sit down) Four large storage bins of children’s clothes, separated by size 2, 3, 4 and 5. One large storage bin of children’s shoes. Ranging from sizes for 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 year olds. But the most treasured hoarded item was in two boxes in the back of the closet. In the back, behind comforters, pillows and luggage were two computer paper boxes. I opened them up to discover history about Wanda that I never asked to inquire about and she didn’t feel necessary to disclose to me. She had kept, every and I mean every, posted note, piece of paper, handmade cards, purchased cards, poems and letters I had ever given her. She even had the letter I wrote and left on her apartment door in 1989 telling her she could do better than me. To top it off she had also saved every card she ever gave me and I foolishly had put in the trash. It was a cry, laugh, smile and sigh-fest of emotions reading and remembering every card. Proof that she probably did kind of care for me. I found manila envelopes with certificates of achievement, letters of recommendation, and information about attending Girls State in Grand Forks, ND, periodicals about her dental career, albums of pictures I didn’t know existed. There were news clippings about her grandfather and father’s involvement with the Stockman’s Association, autographed pictures of celebrities and again, letters and notes written to her by her family. Some would be upset that these pieces of her life were not shared with me. But, you see, that wasn’t all consumingly important to her. She cherished those memories, but she did not make a box of things who she was. She was woman, who loved her family, friends and God and she knew that when it was time to make an account of her life, those things would not help her into Heaven. Well after taking a handful of aspirin and hitting the sack for the night, I woke up to continue the cleaning and sorting frenzy. I moved to the basement storage shelves. There again, I gathered up a produce box full of Christmas containers, tins and another box of treat tray platters. I confidently can say she had 30 tin and plastic platters. Oh, and did I mention MORE storage containers? About 25 of different sizes. When her parents moved from the family farm to town when her dad retired, Wanda was handed all her childhood dolls, cribs, buggies and games. I called her mother to ask if anyone would like some of those items bac…..NO! Her answer broke the sound barrier. I will start putting things on eBay. I will be having a lady from a local consignment shop with whom Wanda did business. She will go through clothes, dresses, coats, shoe and other pieces to put in her shop. Anticipating her visit I decided to sort out what would be consigned from some of my things. I have a 7 foot couch and a 5 foot love seat down there and they are piled to the brim with clothing. I haven’t even touched her closet upstairs. If the consignment shop can get even an okay price for each item and after her commission, I could probably buy a small island in the Pacific. Please don’t think I am upset with Wanda for having all of this, I am not. It shows me that even on the exterior of her reducing material things, there were still many that were dear to her heart and memories. I cannot pass judgment because I haven’t even gone through the garage yet!
Posted on: Tue, 09 Sep 2014 23:03:28 +0000
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