A Hard Walk Down Memory Lane

Later this weekend I leave for Utah to address the monumental task of removing all the things my dad owns from his house. When I was there for the funeral a couple of months ago now, I sat in the study and realized that I was emotionally attached to just about everything in the room–from the rock on his desk that served as a paperweight, to the pictures on the wall, to the books on the shelves. I think this will be a very emotional time for me–and my sibs. After my mom died, I brought home the bride and groom from the top of their wedding cake, the postcards she had saved, her recipe box and more. I have to say, I love the recipe box. I love to look at the recipes in her own handwriting and see the comments she wrote about who she got the recipe from and when it was served. I don’t think anybody in my family would argue that my mom was a particularly good cook–but she did like to collect recipes!
So next week a big truck will deliver something called a “relo-cube” that is 6x7x8. And I think I will probably want to stuff it to the gills with things that remind me of my dad, except that relo-cubes probably don’t have gills. I know I will feel disrespectful getting rid of anything! Wish me luck in this difficult process.

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4 responses to “A Hard Walk Down Memory Lane

  1. I know it’s not the same, but I have a hard time thinking of that house being emptied, too. And I know what you mean about feeling disrespectful tossing stuff, since Grandpa saved so much for his own reasons. I miss him, and his stability, his constancy, his unconditional love and patience and generosity.

    I hope you have a wonderful time, I’m sure it will be memorable.

  2. I will never go past your house without thinking of you and your dad and family. I remember your dad saying once, “you need to keep a journal” and I said, “what for?” and he said, “but your children won’t.” However, I see now that this is a lot like your coin collection and coming across something I have written a long time ago gives me a great deal of joy because I remember the girl I was and the girl I am now and it’s delightful to see that I have changed.”

  3. Yes, Sarah, it was really strange to leave the house for the last time and realize I may never go into it again–a place where I have so many happy memories.

  4. And of course I drove past your house several times, Marilyn and remembered hours of playing Hearts, while eating Manhattan clam chowder and giant ice cream sundaes! Didn’t see Ron, however. Did I tell you I am reading a biography of Fawn Brody? Interesting stuff!

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