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Thursday, January 13, 2011

Pick and choose just a few

This weekend I'm heading out to my old house to help my Dad pack it all up.
It's very strange, but someone actually made an offer on my childhood home. I grew up in a tiny village (OK technically hamlet) of 300 people, and my parents spent most of their time since they retired up at the cabin, so they weren't home much anymore. The house is fine - nothing fancy, and very cozy and was all ours. It was an old 1908 war time house that Dad slowly renovated room by room over the years. Thing is, there's not a real rush of people wanting to move into my home town, so Dad figured a nice offer on the house should be accepted, as it's not likely to happen again. It's a bit sooner than feels completely comfortable since he was thinking about waiting a year or so to see how he felt before trying to sell the house, but it's fair offer for a binky little town, so he decided to accept. In the end I think it is a good thing - he gets quite lonely there when he's home now that Mum is gone...being all alone in a tiny town in the winter can really make a person miserable when you're just AOK, so this is, I think a blessing in disguise. He gets to sort through everything now while he's healthy and of a clear mind instead of us all wading through it years from now under very different circumstances.
The new buyers will keep whatever furniture and stuff Dad doesn't want, which makes it easier, but there is still the attic and basement storage to go thru. Over 30 years of life...
My brother and I went out in April to go most of Mum's things, but this weekend I'm heading up to help Dad sort through all the rest of the things he won't need. The thing is, the cabin is already set with the basics and furniture that he'll need - and he's simple guy. So he and I will to sort through what to keep and what to give away and pack it all up so the people can move in in Feb. Some I'll take, but most will be given away to the Salvation Army or other community groups for people who can use them.
It's strange - maybe I'll feel different once I get there, but this isn't bothering me as much as I thought it would. Admittedly it will be very strange knowing I can't go home anymore...but I think that time is past. Time to move on I guess. I just want what is best for my Dad...and this really is the best thing when you think about it.
I know my brother is rather uncomfortable with the whole idea so he doesn't want to be involved. I don't mind. J has to work, so it'll just be me and Dad, and I'm actually looking forward to it. I like helping Dad and I can use my new Amazon muscles to help him go through things and keep him from lifting too much. He's done so much for me it's the least I can do. And I like going through things...it makes some people very sad, but I get a real sense of comfort out of it all. I'll get the chance to emotionally pack up and say by to my childhood home and keep the odd memorial thing -I'm glad for that.
Here's to a nice weekend with no snow for safe travels so we can get things done.
Cheers!

3 comments:

the Bag Lady said...

Safe travels, Geo!
And enjoy the trip down memory lane that this will afford you. Try to keep a few things, especially if they make you smile. I have some of my moms' old cookbooks, and love to pull them out and try out recipes. It's almost like she's in the kitchen with me at times!

diddums said...

I hope it's all going well! The thought of all the possessions and papers waiting to be gone through can be quite intimidating. Leaving an old home even more so...

Captain Chlorophyll said...

I can't go home anymore...but I think that time is past.
Home is wherever your dad is, and wherever your thoughts of your mom are.