Last week, my sister and I embarked on the task of cleaning out my mom’s condo.  Mom is now in assisted living, and has everything she needs in her one large room.  (“Needs” and “wants” might be different things… let’s say, she has everything that could possible fit there and then some.)  So, the accumulated remaining possessions that were left in the closets, under the beds, in the cabinets, on the shelves, in the drawers, on the walls, were left to be dealt with.

This is not our childhood home, but the retirement home of my mom.  Still, some of the items dating back to our childhoods made it to this location, in a couple of enormous boxes in the corners of the spare bedroom closets.  These brought back memories, mostly fond and but some not-so-fond.   From my old report cards (which recorded your height and weight back then along with your academic achievements) I was reminded what a fat little kid I was.  Our old slightly beat up Madame Alexander dolls reminded me how I once shamelessly abused my sister’s doll by cramming corn flakes into its eyes.  A tiny set of metal pots and pans reminded me that, as children, we had a functional small electric stovetop – how many times did we come close to burning down the house with that beast?

We kept a few of the items that we just couldn’t part with – my sister took, among other things, the pancake pitcher and griddle, and we vowed to make pancakes served with sausages, maple syrup and applesauce at Christmastime like our Dad used to for dinner sometimes.  I took the family photos in various media – slides, loose snapshots, arranged in albums, framed.  We brought more small knick-knacks and mementos to my mom. But many of the items will find new homes via the many boxes we donated to a charity shop, or, if they were too far gone, have been deep-sixed in the dump.  It’s just the way of things.

It was sad, and exhausting, and frustrating, but we got through it, with the help of some friends and our husbands.  Ghosts have been encountered, dispatched, and banished along with about a ton of stuff.  The memories remain.