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Life got in the way!!! I was going to write about making a tea wallet but I didn’t take pictures and then I worked the show. Yesterday was spent with Lady on her day off and we went up to Saratoga Historical Park and had a picnic in the car (it was raining!) and tried to hit up a bookstore but it was closed. So we went exploring and ended up at a thrift shop. I bought a table! It’s going to go outside after I coat it so we can eat and craft and have tea outside. Sooo excited. ^_^ We had ice cream and then I was off to the show again.

Today was ….. interesting. I decided that it was about time to get the shelves I made mom to go up. I brought over laundry and started emptying the garage.

To explain, most of mom’s life before 1987 is packed away in the garage and a car cover in the back yard. The house is packed with a century’s worth of stuff. My grandmother grew up in the depression so she never threw anything away. She never used anything either, but that’s for another time. My aunt lives with us for most of my life and her things are still there. Dad’s many interests are still there and so are some of mine unfortunately. My brother left most of his things when he moved, and my sister is still there. And clothes. Soooo many clothes. This is what I grew up in.

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The house is full. And so is the garage and the back yard and the front porch and the basement and attic. Therefore I made mom some shelves. In digging out the space stocking the shelves and moving a giant dresser, I was really to stop. The worst part of all was not the amount of stuff, not that most of it was broken, not that it was all dirty. It was that one box bottomed out. In cleaning up the mugs and toy cars there were several soaked boxes. Inside were handkerchiefs and scarves and baby boots.

The handkerchiefs and scarves I can deal with. The pillbugs and spiders I can deal with. (Not so much the centipede but ah well). What almost made me start to cry was the baby shoes. Two pairs of white leather baby shoes that were moulded and rotten and black sploches. All I coud think was ‘are these mine?’. Did I wear these at some time and they were left like this? Forgotten, never to be worn again or passed on or anything.

I understand that mom doesn’t want to go through it all because it’s painful. Putting all of your treasures away for years and years and finding them destroyed and without a place to display them is horrifying. Please please remember- use what you have, and if you don’t use it pass it on. There are enough mugs in that garage to stock a diner. My mom’s baby books are mouldering in a pile.

I don’t have much family. Blood, I have mom, my sister, and my brother. My grandmother, aunt, uncle and cousin live in New Mexico. I know next to nothing about them. To see so much personal history destroyed and to be continued to be destroyed is heart wrenching. But I still need it to be done. I, personally, need to see my mom’s home cleaned up and her things in order. That it’s not, and it probably won’t be when I move, hurts. I have long come to the conclusion that it’s not my problem anymore, that it’s not my space and that I need to look to my own house first, which I do.

But reminders of what I grew up in, and how much worse it’s gotten, is unsettling. It scares me because I don’t want that to happen to me.

 

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