|Cleaning out sixty-five years. |
Grammy moved into her home in 1960(?)
Mary and I spent five hours helping Grammy sort through the stuff in her bedroom she wants to take to Assisted Living and the stuff that has to go. It was a five-hour lightning round beneath a cloud of dust bunnies.
Our system was efficient. I would hold up a thing in question and offer some color commentary. Grammy would shift around in the desk chair we'd rolled in for executive decision-making. She would declare "Keep It" or "Donate It." Mary handled all backend management.
As the MC of the operation, I noticed the Gramster getting a little misty eyed about parting with certain signature possessions. For example, the curtains and matching bedspread she sewed herself for one of the bedrooms a good thirty years ago. Maybe forty. They coordinated with an orange shag rug.
You could call it a white lie, or maybe you could call it me trying to make a hard situation easier on a beloved old lady, but I noticed that if I said that someone in the family wanted something, Grammy was more than happy to give it up. She adores her family, she wants them have nice.
I boomed to Mary, "Mary! These curtains and bedspread would look amazing in the twins' room! You should totally take them!" !!! !!!
Mary said, "What?! Are you kidding? No they...." She looks over at me and my bulging eyeballs.... "Yes totally! they would look amazing! The kids will love them."
Bag it up and on to the next drawer.