It’s been a month, or so, since I last wrote. As usual, we are twirling with things going on. My big news is that I finished cleaning and clearing out my parents’ house. I’m not sure this has completely sunken in yet. I took some pictures, that last day, and even they look surreal to me. It was a long winter. Working in the house took its toll. I ended up with a very bad head/chest cold. All those months of working in the cold – you may remember that I mentioned that we decided not to buy another shipment of oil so we were unable to use the heat after the last of the heating oil ran out in November – and in the dust...and in the tears of this project… Well, it makes sense that my body should break down once the task was completed. The mortgage company who bought the house at an open auction has not taken possession of it yet.
What have I learned after this 16 month period since my mother left us? I have spent this time looking at every aspect of their lives. I have sifted through all their possessions. Sometimes it was extremely uncomfortable – my mother’s journals contained a lot of information about her thoughts and feelings. I came across a very large collection of letters. A large portion of them were from a very close friend in England that may very well have been my mother’s soul mate and who communicated with her from 1944 till his death in 1999. I had no idea what large a part he played in my mother’s life. I do know that she did suffer from deep regret that she dismissed his proposal of marriage all those years ago. I know their relationship caused problems in my parents’ marriage – even as far back as my early childhood. I know that he was a confidante and a strong supporter of my mother and the key link to her home and early years. I also know that my parent’s marriage survived for 60 years so I guess the “proof is in the pudding.” Certainly, it was hard to read those love letters – for that is what they were. It gave me a tremendous insight to who my mother was – beyond being my mother. Some may think that I should never have read them. The fact remains that this person was so important to my mother that she saved all of his letters – all of them – and it is a key to my mother’s life. It gives clues to her childhood that I would have known nothing about. There are also all the letters my father wrote after they were married and separated by the US Army. She kept them all. I also have all the letters she wrote him as she waited with other war brides in a little internment camp yearning to begin this extreme adventure of a new life in America. Loads of letters.
Some things I also discovered - I found out that my mother was a very generous woman when it came to charity. Although my parents never had a lot of money and lived very frugally she was always able to give to various organizations. We were never aware that money was so tight in our home as she was such a good manager. I could have used a lot more of her guidance there. I was able to see the depth of her work outside our house in the community; something I was always aware of but never really understood. I didn’t remember her receiving the Key to the City of Livonia yet I now have it. I came across so many newspaper articles and letters of thanks from groups and individuals. The PTA on both the State and local levels. The Library Commission and all the work she did to support the building of a library in our community. So many things.
In her dozens of journals I could see her deep commitment to homemaking, her deep interest in her garden and all the wildlife there. It will take me a long time to wade through all the genealogy work she had compiled over the years. I always knew that she was a fascinating person but now it’s all there for me to see and take in. She had a real interest in the world and what she could do in it.
I waded through so much stuff – and all of it interesting! Telegrams that told me when my English grandparents passed away. Telegrams from those same folks sending their love and support to my parents on the occasions of my birth and that of my brother. Letter upon letter from my English grandparents over the years filled with longing and loneliness to their only daughter. Very touching and sometimes so very very sad.
My mother’s abiding love of food and cooking were evident in all the recipes and cookbooks, certainly, but also in all the articles and magazines and restaurant menus! She had probably a dozen from New Orleans restaurants alone! Journal entries of places they found in the East when they traveled in the early years. So very sad when I think of how little she weighed when she passed away. She couldn’t eat much that last year.
I looked at every thing. I wanted to be the person that noticed all they did and wanted. Does that make sense? I wanted to be the observer so that nothing of their amazing lives would be forgotten. I was the one who got to see their house – bought in 1955 – as they first saw it. Empty and full of promise and possibilities and hope. I tried so very hard to throw things away. I took pictures of things that I wanted to have evidence of and I threw out the rest. It got to be overwhelming after awhile. I worked hard to separate out what was important and what I wanted to keep just so some of their essence would still exist. I guess I have not fully embraced that they are both gone.
Which brings it back to me. I am working with what I have left now and how I continue without their safety net. My 49th birthday was earlier in March. It was a very sober day, for the most part. My second since my mother’s death. I am already working on plans to meet friends and stay with another in New Orleans to celebrate my 50th, next year. I have a handful of gals who will also be turning 50 and I think New Orleans is truly fitting as my parents’ also celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary there. I feel that this is the halfway point in my life – if I ‘m lucky! Now I have to decide who I am without their guidance. I’m sure my brother feels otherwise, seeing as he left their nest so early on. I envy that part. But the fact that I had almost 50 years with them – well it hardly bears comparison. I think this process will take some time. The bottom line to all of this is the fact that I have more questions than answers. I see my lovely parents as full and complex individuals and I somehow wished I had listened more closely and written more things down.
I looked at the calendar just now and remembered that my dad passed away on April 5th, 2006. It isn’t hard to remember 4-5-06. Wow. No wonder this day I have felt slightly out of sorts. He would have turned 90 this summer. Amazing to think of this as I am writing today.
I found lots of photos and I did not throw many of those away. When there is more time, perhaps in the summer, I will take the time to sort them and make some remembrance books. My mother did well to label a lot of them but I will have to be strong and throw out the ones of people and places I don’t know. There is only so much storage in my house and garage. Sigh.
Gee, now that that is all finished..... what do I do with the second part of my life? Time to reexamine and re-emerge as something beyond the cocoon.
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