Prunes

I emptied out the fridge today. There was a box of prunes. It took me back to my grandmother, who loved to stew prunes until they were un-prune-like. It goes without saying we threw the prunes away. (I think the last time I had them, I was pregnant and constipated up to my eyebrows!)

Her freezer was full of steaks, chicken, ham, pork chops and succotash. Three packs of succotash!!! We debated taking it home, but decided that we would offer it to neighbors. They all politely declined. I guess everyone but her thinks succotash is disgusting. So, with a silent apology to her frugality, I tossed it in the garbage.

Everything we can do in her house has been done as of today. In the next week, people who need the furniture are coming to get it - table and chairs, dresser, couch and coffee table, TV, lamps. It's going to people who need it. It's all good.

And it is so very hard. The last time we turn the key and lock the door, I know I will cry...

She really is gone.

sorting and packing

There are three different methods for packing...

1) One is to be logical, thoughtful and careful and put "like things together"...
(This works well if you are packing people who are organized and their stuff is sorted and ready to be packed. I am usually this kind of person. Don't hate.)

2) Another is to pack "things which are next to each other together"...
(Which can be dangerous if you are a "piler" type of person and the closest flat surface is where something "belongs." My older child is this kind of person... so is my husband...)

3) And the third is, "I am sick and tired of packing up someone else's stuff so let's just mark them all MISCELLANEOUS."

I think I am on the third way of packing.

The list goes on...

I don't know... I think I want to sell my house, "as is" and "all contents convey" when I'm about to go see Jesus. There's just so much to do to close out a home...

She did an amazing job of sorting through "stuff"... I shudder at what my children will have to do! (sorry kids...) There's really no piles of "stuff" anywhere to sort, box and bag, but there are collections of things that she couldn't part with because they were "still good."

Under that category, we have:

• hair curlers (three colors, four sizes)
• hair dryers (the old bonnet style? check. TWO of them? check.)
• ironed and folded old (used) wrapping paper
• the bags that the paper came in every morning (about two large shopping bags FULL)
• plastic grocery bags (about 10 bags stuffed FULL)
• twist-ties, neatly sorted by colors into coffee mugs (four mugs FULL)

That last one was what put us over the edge and we laughed until we cried...

But there's a lot of really really good things...

• clothes, shoes, sweaters, coats, belts, socks, panties, bras
• material, thread, findings, scissors
• books, paper, office supplies
• plastic food wraps and bags of every description
• furniture - dressers, bed, sofa, coffee tables, lamps, artwork, desk, chair, kitchen table
• kitchen - microwave, cart, pots, pans, mixer, dishes, silverware

We have to have everything out this week... We're both exhausted.

God gives grace. And provides tissues! She had 8 boxes in a closet. We've wept our way through this...

Clutter

I confess I don't care about "keeping house." There's piles of papers and things all over the place in my home. I try to contain the piles, but it's just not my thing. I'd rather to just about ANYTHING other than clean house. Or sort paperwork.

But suddenly there's a massive paperwork job. We can't empty out her place until we know where certain papers are... like the car title! We need insurance papers, bank papers, etc. And keeping track of health insurance payments is a nightmare! (Who thinks we don't need health insurance reform??? You must never be sick. I've never seen so many forms and bills and so on... None of them paying much and all of them needing a response.)

The thing is, she was the kind of person who filed her bills immedately upon paying them. There are labeled folders and files for everything.

If someone were coming to clean out my stuff, I'd be embarrassed.

While I clean out hers, I just feel sad.

For free: one uncomfortable couch

There is this couch in her house. When you sit on it, you either sink down in until your butt hits a spring, or you sit on a ridge of lumpy feathers. It's about 6 feet long. It's low to the ground. It's made of what one might call "durable fabric." There's not a worn place or rip anywhere.

We call it "the big un-comfy couch." I offered it, free for the taking, to some college students at church who always need furniture. They came to look at it and politely declined.

Did I mention it is ugly, too?

But here's the kicker. She keeps asking me if I am going to take the couch. We own a house with narrow rooms and halls, and the sucker will never fit up the stairs. I finally said, "no, we can't get it in our house, but I know where it will be going. Don't worry."

I think the dump will be getting it. I don't think the Salvation Army or Goodwill are going to accept it because it isn't in sale-able shape. Truth be told, I'm embarrassed to offer it to any one.

But it's free. One uncomfortable couch.

perfectly good

I have gone around and around with other family members. No one wants the clothes. No one WILL want the clothes. At least, not us or our children. We need to give them away. TODAY. She wants us to keep them...

"BUT... they are perfectly good!" she says to us...

Right.

Suits with 1970s lapels. Shirts with embroidery on the cuffs and collars. Purses that are made of PLASTIC!!!! leather. Puhleeease.

My kids are rolling their eyes and walking in another direction whenever a load of things comes home. Today I am going to do another purging of the closets. And everything is going straight from my car to Salvation Army. None of it is coming in the house.

She is a size 8 petite. I am a size 16, not-at-all-petite. Even the gloves (remember those? 13 pairs?) will NOT fit.

This is one more battle that I do not need to fight.

13 pairs of gloves

I have been packing up clothes and things that she can no longer use... when you are bed-bound, you don't wear wool suits or heels, and you don't need a purse. (She's convinced she has no money; we have given up on that one.) Linens. Clothing. Dishes. Pots and pans. A refrigerator full of molding food (we thought she'd go through rehab and then go home...)

But what did me in this afternoon was the 13 pairs of gloves (I counted them) which were in a box of winter clothes. Four pairs were ones she had been given for Christmas. The tags were still on them. Thirteen pairs of gloves.

They are all going to the interfaith center next week.

Thirteen pairs of gloves.

Oh God
May I not be so selfish and focused on me that I hoard up for myself treasures on earth. Thirteen pairs of gloves is only a reminder that I am far too self-focused as well...

But still.
13 pairs of gloves...