Over two years ago my mum moved from her house of over 4o years to an apartment complex. It was a difficult transition, not only for my mum, but for me and my siblings. We sorted and organized and cleaned and sorted and threw out and sorted and kept and tossed and… You get the idea. It was long and it was painful.
This fall my mum decided that it was time to leave her two-bedroom apartment and move to a one-bedroom suite in a retirement residence. Once again we sorted and organized and tossed and kept and…
“What’s this?” I asked my sister. “Didn’t we throw this out the last time?”
I held up a thin, worn blanket. A blanket that once wrapped precious items bought in England and given in love. A blanket that kept those things safe from breaking as we traveled the ocean to all the promise and adventure of our new chosen home, Canada.
Karen looked over from the box she was opening. “I’m sure we did,” she answered. “Oh my goodness! Come here, Denise.”
There in the box was a pile of material we had found in the attic of the house. It had not survived being stored in the attic very well and the decision had been made to throw it out. But, here it was again. Obviously Mum had reversed the decision and washed and kept the material. Mum had made most of our clothes and, as many of her generation, hesitated to throw anything away. We found bits and pieces of various shapes and sizes.
“That’s from my Grade 8 graduation dress!”
“Mum made that dress for me the summer I met my future husband.”
“Do you remember this dress of Mum’s? She wore it to death.”
I held up a jar. “And what are we going to do with these? Do you think Mum will do any more sewing?”
To others it was a jar of buttons. To our mum it was a jar full of memories – a little white button off one of her baby’s knitted jackets, knitted by her mum – a fancy gold button from a smart navy blazer – a button from a favourite dress long gone – and many more.
Tears filled our eyes as we looked around. These were not just our mum’s memories, but ours as well. Blankets, buttons, books, tablecloths, fabric, furniture and more – each filled pages and chapters of our lives.
Let’s journey together.
© 2009 Denise Budd Rumble
Ah Denise,
There was a certain nostalgia in reading the activity surrounding your mum’s decision to downsize. As you know I was one of the nurses who looked after your dad and I remembered your mum and her cheerful busy self as she visited him in the hospital.
May the Lord bless you and her as she settles into a quiet time of life.
Love & hugs
Mary
By: Mary Haskett on March 22, 2009
at 9:34 am
Thank you, Mary.
Seeing as Mum has always been a busy person, these changes in her life are challenging, and not always welcome. I will be posting more about this in the coming days.
love,
Denise
By: Denise Budd Rumble on March 22, 2009
at 9:40 am
Thanks Denise for the lovely post. I am in the middle of sorting Dad out now and trying to arrange for him to move to Drayton. I am so excited about this but dreading all the work involved. Dad’s house is a five bedroom house now so he thinks he wants to ‘downsize’ to a three bedroom house. Yikes! Methinks one or two bedrooms would suffice…we shall see what happens. First we have to sell his house in London! Sigh. But I know as we have already started packing, it is an emotional thing for even me, let alone my poor Dad. Memories…thanks for making me think and for realizing I am not the only one doing this!
By: Glynis on March 22, 2009
at 10:20 am
You are definitely not alone, Glynis! My mum was also a widow when she downsized to the apartment. I think it’s more difficult for them to let go of “stuff” when their partner is gone as the “stuff” represents pieces and memories of their spouse. My motto was, and still is, “one day at a time, dear Jesus”. Someone told me that if you are uncertain whether or not to part with a particular item – keep it. You can always get rid of it later when the situation is not so emotional, but rarely can you get it back.
By: Denise Budd Rumble on March 23, 2009
at 4:47 am
It’s Mothering Sunday in England today, where I am with my own Mum. It was good to share a bit of your mother/daughter journey Denise. These will be precious stories to have recorded.
By: Belinda on March 22, 2009
at 11:18 am
So glad you are able to spend Mothering Sunday with your mum this year, Belinda! Precious days. Precious memories.
By: Denise Budd Rumble on March 23, 2009
at 4:48 am
Isn’t it amazing how many memories can be packed into something like a button or scrap of cloth? Or snatch of song or scent?
By: joannamallory on March 22, 2009
at 12:26 pm
Yes it is. Mold and mildew, squirrels and raccoons, children and packing companies – none of those things can take away our memories.
By: Denise Budd Rumble on March 23, 2009
at 4:49 am
Hi Denise,
I had the opportunity three years ago to close down our family’s house in Newfoundland. Dad had moved to Heaven a couple of years previously and mom had just moved to a seniors home, where she still is at 90 (and enjoying quite the social life I might add).
I wasn’t looking forward to the task, let me tell you, but now I treasure the memory of spending the time going through the old things: my dad’s books complete with hidden notes and time worn letters, pictures my mother loved, silverware and china already designated new homes. We were supposed to have separate jobs to do, but it turned out that we pored together over each object.
One of those neices was new to the family (long story) so you can imagine how long it took us to get through everything, because everything had a story.
Another precious memory I have now attached to that little house!
No doubt a universal experience, that. We really do journey together, don’t we?
By: Fay Rowe on April 3, 2009
at 7:43 am
You’re right, Fay. We do have universal experiences, but each has its uniqueness. Yes, we really do journey together. It’s good to walk with friends.
By: Denise Budd Rumble on April 3, 2009
at 8:29 am