Life. It just gets more interesting as I age.
Parents. Declining health. Focusing on their care , their needs. Hoping to make things comfortable for them, and looking for comfort in that myself.
Packing items. The items that were the cherished items that were kept from the big move from their home. Items with sentimental value. Photo albums. Lots of photo albums. Mom loved her photos and proudly organized them and loved to reflect while flipping through the images.
Ornaments. Great grammas china. Antique plates. Tartan jackets and kilts. Some Wallace tartan items.
And framed pictures. Mom took pride in matting and framing pictures of our ancestors. Both sides of the family. George and Clara Wolfe. George who tragically died when run over by his tractor. Apparently months before he was leaving the farm. Clara. I remember gramma Wolfe. I remember sitting on her knee I loved her to bits. And I remember the ambulance that took her away from our home. As I watched from a neighbours. A tiny girl that didn't get it and didn't want her gramma gone. I little girl that then feared death and dark and being alone. The photos of these two my grandparents brought these and many other thoughts. Their marriage certificate tactfully framed. Still makes me wonder why the minister had put the wrong name for my grampa. Then merely crossed it out.replacing James with George Rather than issue a new one!
Gramma and grampa Wallace. Their wedding photo. She was young. So young. I knew my grandparents both on moms side. Loved them very much ! My childhood is abundant with memories of fun times at their house. Playing cards , toasting raisin bread on the fireplace, gathering fire rocks or dancing with siblings , cousins, and all to The mamas and papas , Rolling Stones or one of the many Beatle songs we would play over and over. Herman's hermits. Dave Clark five. So much fun.
Nights with accordions fiddles and playing the spoons.
Their picture brought back these memories
Memories. Tied to trinkets photos and so many keepsakes. Tied to CDs , to song books. The calendars mom kept. Important events recorded on certain dates. From eye appts to anniversaries to heart attacks and illnesses. All there on calendars. Notebooks with every event that happened that mattered to mom . Recorded. Hand written. Tyler's first tooth. Donna swallowing a nickle and then the "recovery " of that nickle ! My teeth getting broken off while tobogganing. My kids progress ! Her sisters and brothers life events. All there written in her books.
She can't read the books. She can't see the pictures she can't sit and share her memories. Or tell us who's dishes the pink ones are. Or who should get the doll my grandma dressed with her own hands in the Wallace tartan.
She can laugh at herself. She does love her favourite songs still and she thanks us for visiting her and loving her.
Dad. Just wants up go home. To his house.
I think they are comfortable
Now all is packed up. I am not in that zone called comfort yet. It will take time. Acceptance. Grief. So many losses. So much change. The nightly phone calls. The visits at Mulberry. The knowing that when I was thinking of mom. She was usually thinking of me. I would think of calling her and the phone would ring. It would be her.
Life the older I get. The more I learn. The more I grow. The more I accept. Yet there is so much that I fail to understand.
Night
