The last two days have been busy. Kathi had two days off from work. And instead of us spending it together, she was good enough to go with me to Mom's house and we spent the time packing up things from her house so she can move closer to family. Kathi helped pack up old quilts and other household things. I worked in the garage.
Man! I never realized all the "stuff " my Dad had. I mean, I know that he had tools and yard stuff. But how many sets of wrenches does a guy need? And what's up with all these pieces of wood? There are sticks, lumber, two by fours, plywood in different shapes and sizes, planks, chunks, slivers, and saw dust that he keep putting in bags. Now, what is a Ziplock sandwich bag full of saw dust being saved for? Well, fire starter, maybe.
And cardboard! Lots and lots of cardboard.
Fishing poles. I counted six that work and are whole, another 12 that are broken to the point that you can't even make them into pocket fishing poles.
One real good find -- well, he found it. Anyone need a kerosene stove with oven? Tanks and everything you need to set it up. He and his friend "saved it " from an old trailer and hauled it to their house when they lived in Arkansas.
How about some Coleman fuel cans? I've found about 15 of those. Some with about a cup of fuel, others completely full and never opened.
And garden tools. He has an old wooden barrel stuffed with them -- I mean, stuffed to the point that it is about to bust at the seams.
Oh yeah, and hand saws. We got a whole box of them also. Like 20 of 'em. Maybe he had a saw fetish. Mom about had a fit when I told her about all them saws.
We got enough done so you now can walk around the car in the garage without getting grabbed by a saw, or a stick, or a 2x4.
Kathi got lots done in the house. So, we are getting closer for Mom to move. Mom keeps saying that she is going to chew Dad's butt when she sees him again.
My Dad, on the other hand, is probably up there fishing, and camping, and hunting, and looking down here every now and then with that grin of his, winking at friends and relatives up there with him.
I'm just waiting for her to find that one item in the house that will make Mom, stop, look, cry, and put that smile on her face that my Dad always would talk about.
She will say, just like a hundred times before, "Dammit, Jim!" And then she would just laugh.
So, she is doing better and working towards moving on.
And I, well let's just say, the more of his " stuff " I go through the more I feel connected to him through those things, and they bring memories. . . lots and lots of memories. . . flooding back.
I'm finding that those memories will last way longer than, say, the material things.
If I kept all those things, I would have to have another house just to store them in. Or to show them off.
Material things will, one day, rust or break and turn to dust, just as we all will also. So, I'm going with the memories. They will last forever.
So, share your memories. It's like living forever with family and friends.