I finally I understand why people do it – I never understood why folks call a ‘service’ to clean out a house/basement/attic, sight unseen. My closeted packrat mentality always wants to examine each and every item and when it is found wanting, then find a proper home for it. What the hell was I thinking?
I conceded the struggle and my mother is now ensconced in a fairly nice local ‘assisted living center’ which resembles an English rooming house without the penny gas rings. It even has a koi pond.
Meanwhile in her flat, over the last few of days I have found very old mouse droppings, 5 cans of pineapple, 7 half bottles of shampoo, 14 used toothbrushes, 23 framed pictures of second cousins, 41 shoe boxes with shoes and umpteen zillion grocery bags stuffed into many brown handle bags stuffed into a couple cupboards – and 6 books, all gifts all unread.
The idea of having everything removed to the walls by sweaty men in dump trucks used to be beyond comprehension….but now what I wouldn’t give for a few, but my luck I’d get dumpy men in sweaty trucks.
The whole ordeal causes me to come home and start pitching my own belongings into trash cans, I don’t have a sucker in my family stupid enough go rooting around through my ante-life, and I’d like a say in what get’s left behind. I don’t want anyone finding that old VHS cassette of Lord of the Dance and thinking less of me.
Anyone want several dozen big red Christmas bows?