More sorting

My brothers, my sister and I were together this weekend to do more sorting.

It was a productive day, but somewhat daunting. There are so many memories stored in boxes and envelopes and drawers. It is good to remember. We laughed together and shared stories.

But what do you do with all the physical reminders? I have a six drawer dresser at home that is already nearly full of photographs we took and printed before digital storage.

There are boxes of unsorted photographs at Mom’s house, as well as many albums of photos from different eras of our lives. They seem too poignant to throw away. But if I bring some of them home, will they get stuffed into a drawer for my children to deal with after I’m gone? Will I ever take time to look at them again? Or is this the time to remember, and then to let go?

One of us found a gift bag with the gift still in it. It was a mason jar decorated with a jute bow and a tag. I’d given it to Mom for either a birthday or for Mother’s Day one year.

Inside the jar were carefully written and folded little notes of some of the many things about Mom for which I was grateful.

I’m sure she opened it and read every note, and then, not knowing where to put it or what to do with it, she placed it back in the bag to decide later. She moved it with her from her home to the apartment at Showalter, and then to the home she was in until she needed nursing care. It was still there, tucked in a corner somewhere.

Truthfully, I’d forgotten that gift. I would feel just as loved had she recycled the notes and reused the jar. But now I’ve had the chance to reread all those notes.

When I think of Mom, I still think of all of those things that I listed in the notes. None of them are forgotten even though I’d forgotten writing the notes. So now that they are documented here, they will be recycled.

I’m not sad she kept them, or the other notes and cards that we are reading. Some of them add depth to the things we knew about her other relationships. Others validate that others knew her the way we did.

It’s a good way to grieve, this sorting, and letting go.

There was one moment when one of us discovered something...I don’t even remember now what it was…but my first thought was, “We should show this to Mom!” But of course, we can’t.

Mom had neighbors who were kind to her. They have been kind to us as well. They gave us warm and gentle greetings as we moved back and forth between our vehicles and the house on Saturday.

Sunday was a snow/ice storm. The neighbors didn’t know if we were coming back that day. My brother came by to check the house and found the driveway and sidewalks completely cleaned.

Another gift to us. It’s overwhelming.