Estate Sale

Hey Mom,

A few months after you left us one of my older neighbors passed away. I had just gotten all the girls off to school and saw a few different vehicles and a police car out side their house. I went inside and sat where I could see what was going on outside. Tapping away at my computer, I heard sirens in the distance. Soon those sirens went silent and an ambulance pulled up. I watched as the EMT's go inside. They were in there for a while. During that time I texted a different neighbor, the neighbor that checks on them frequently. Their response was devastating. The wife had quietly passed away while sitting in her chair that morning.

I sat there stunned. Watched while the husband was brought out of the house on a stretcher, loaded into the ambulance and driven away. I had not seen him walk their dog in quite some time. I heard he wasn't really mobile any more, thus the ambulance. I have not seen him since. Apparently he is now up north near family, in a nursing home, and the dog is with family.

Like a creepy old lady neighbor, I continued watching out the window, but from a distance so no one could see me, lol. Two white, non-descript vans pulled up, their drivers went inside. Being the nosy person I am, I watched, waited for what I knew had to happen at some point. Some time later, watching them going back and forth from their vehicles, they went in with another stretcher. Finally, they brought her out. Like in the movies, she was covered in a tucked white sheet. I don't know what else I was expecting to see. I watched until the vans drove away, the officer, then the caregiver.

It was sad watching. I teared up every now and throughout the day. Thought about you and the emotions their family was currently going through, same ones we had just dealt with, still dealing with.

Two days ago a For Sale sign went up. Yesterday the Estate Sale started. Again, I watched. Watched people wait outside the house. Watched cars come and go. Watched as items were brought out of the garage and put on the driveway. Watched the very rude lady in charge argue with strangers. Curious, I took the mutt for a walk so I could see what kind of stuff there was. Lots of random items. Some cool looking china bowls, but nothing else I was interested in.

While walking around the block I thought about all the trinkets, furniture, random items people were buying. All of those things bought with a specific purpose in mind, memory of a vacation, or gift from someone who loved them. These "things" with no meaning to their buyer, but could have meant the world to the couple who used to live there.

I felt the same when Dad started going through everything he had of yours. I didn't want your things going to a stranger. I want to hold on to it. I want to keep you as close as possible for as long as possible. Which is probably why I have so much stuff around the house now. You are every where, but not actually here. Every where I look in the house there is a reminder of you, or my Nana or Granka. Literally every where.

A painting Nana did sits by the TV, shirts the girls wear to bed, Granka's owls hanging in the hallway, a couple of Nana's giraffes scattered throughout the house, and your piano. Your piano. I really wanted it so the kids could learn how to play, but now I don't want them to touch it. I don't want to hear it. That isn't the only thing I don't want to hear. One of the girls, have decided they like singing. I do not know why I don't like hearing her, but I don't. I try to come up with excuses for her to stop singing. Most of the time there is too much going on and I feel over stimulated. Sometimes she sings songs in a different language and it bothers me because I don't know what she is saying. Don't get me wrong, her voice is beautiful and I have told her many times to join the choir at school, but she always says no.

I realize this all part of the grieving process, doesn't mean I have to like it. I don't want strangers to have your things. I appreciate the time and effort you went through to pick the little knick knacks, strangers don't understand. They won't love these things like you did. All the places you lived, visited, etc. All the stranger gets to say is they bought it from a family who's loved one died. No fond memory for them.

However, the part I need to think about is maybe they can make their own memories with the couple keepsakes. I hope they do. I hope they remember where they got the item from and give it even a little admiration for the time and thought that went into the original purchase. I hope they make a memory of their own while sharing where they got it from.

Well, that is all I have for now. Need to go make some of my own memories. I'll write again soon.

Love,

Your daughter

#alzsucks #alzheimers #dementia #youarenotalone