I have taken some time off from my usual posting schedule. I orignally intended to take just a week or two but it ended up being a month or more. My youngest daughter asked for a graduation gift: a family trip to our old home in the Pacific Northwest. It was such a sweet request that I couldn't say no. So, we loaded up our family and drive thousands of miles at highspeed to try to see everything we possibly could in a week. In the weeks leading up to our trip, my mother and grandmother were caring for my great-aunt who was 90 years old and had Dementia. Determined not to let her drift in lonesome forgetfulness in a nursing home, they worked tirelessly to make her feel loved and safe in her own home until she passed quietly from life. Her care became around the clock for both mom and nana and I went to visit them more frequently as the their task became more involved. I took my mother out for lunch and a little shopping once or twice a week just to give her a break from the demands of caring for my aunt. Nana has friends who did the same for her.
As I left for my trip, Auntie Jay was declinging, but in good spirits. The decline became more rapid while I was away and the day we returned home, we were instructed to come and say our goodbyes. Ninety years, nearly a century, and what a life she lived! For three weeks following her passing, my extended family and I went through her belongings to prepare her home for sale. There is no denying that Jay was a hoarder, but of the classiest kind. She hoarded exquisite antiques and every nook and cranny was piled high and pressed full with valuable things. There was no dumping drawers and carting away armloads in this cleanout. No, everything had to be carefully picked through and examined. Antique coins, century old jewelry, original oil paintings--everything was a treasure. As much as I have always loved Aunt Jay's taste, I was reluctant to be involved with the cleanout process.
My other grandmother and great-grandmother died in the same week when I was a young teen and I was shocked and horrified by the scorched earth style cleanout that I witnessed. The greed, the people who came out of the woodwork demanding their "fair share," the fighting, the slashing and burning of the things that the people I loved so dearly had cherished is deeply ingrained into my life, so it follows that I wouldn't want to go through that ever again. But, my mother persuaded me to come on the first day "just to look." I pulled her aside as we headed in to the house and said, "if things get ugly in there, I'm leaving and I'm taking you with me." She nodded and we went in. And then the strangest thing happened: everyone was kind. There was no fighting, no grabbing, no distant relatives making demands, and the earth remained unscorched.
Each day I went in with a knotted stomach, waiting for this to be the day that it would all fall apart. Instead we laughed, we shared, we talked. It was wonderful and the very best kind of tribute to this woman we all loved. And truly, thanks to her hoarding, there was no reason to fight, because if there was one of something there was at least five more, so everyone who wanted one could have it. Truth be told, although the work was hard and I came home at the end of each day and fell into bed exhausted, I felt so accomplished and had so enjoyed the company that I was sad to see it come to an end. It was time however to get back to living life, caring for my farm and garden, working my job, and setting about the task of cleaning all the treasures I found and finding space for them in my own tiny home. Dear Auntie Jay brought us together, to honor her, celebrate her, and spend some happy time together with family and that my friends was the greatest treasure she ever gave us.
