clearing

This morning my stepdad announced he was selling his house and I needed to decide what of my mom’s stuff I wanted by the time I leave tomorrow morning. 

Insert significant head smack and also deja vu feelings here. 

After my mom’s funeral, a year and a half ago, he told me we had to have her closet cleaned out that day, her clothes and shoes and paperwork dealt with - traces of her gone so things could be painted and freshened up. It was a mad scramble of grief bordering on panic as we frantically made decisions in split seconds that should have taken time and thoughtfulness. I have no idea what we let go it all happened so fast. And here I am again. 

I found my brother’s bar mitzvah album. He isn’t here to tell or send it to. Autograph album’s of my mom from 1947. Cards I’d send her dating back from the 90s. Print outs of photos I’d emailed from years back. Cookbooks with her favorite recipes smudged on ingredient drenched and dried pages. Chip and drip platters from the 70s. 5 spring form pans for cheesecake. Unopened brioche tins. More sealed decks of playing cards than I could count. Extra mah johnng tiles. Pack upon pack of themed cocktail napkins. Plowing through piles and boxes, I didn’t feel my mom close. She isn’t here anymore, her house an empty shell of what it was. It’s remarkable that a person who was so often bed bound could quietly (actually not so quietly) be such a presence even as she slept days aware and appeared only intermittently. 

I salvaged serving pieces and a cake plate, sculptures she wanted me to have and photos I couldn’t say no to and am letting go of the rest. I think it feels good to find some clearing although honestly I’m not sure what I’m feeling at the moment and I’m working on just being in it and not needing to figure it all out.