She Who Dies With the Most Stuff....Dies

One of the difficult things I had to do in the past several months was finally deal with all my mother's things. While my dad was still living in their apartment I put it off, but we had to move my dad to an assisted living facility because of the complications he's having. Which meant that we had to empty the apartment. My dad took a few things with him, but the rest...My sisters were here and they were absolutely ruthless. We didn't have the time to pack up and deliver anything to a charity (the Salvation Army had said they would come and pick things up but then cancelled at the last minute) so that meant everything went into the dumpster. My mother wasn't a collector, quite the opposite, so the things she kept were things that she really wanted or used. All I could think as we made trip after trip to the dumpster was that these were the things that my mother had accumulated over her lifetime, that meant something to her, and in the end it was all so much garbage. Very sad, and not a comfortable thought. I keep thinking about all the things I have and love and wondering if they'll end up in a dumpster or sold for a fraction of what they're worth. I salvaged what I could, but still... Maybe it's because I'm a very visual person so seeing things makes me remember. It was like I was throwing away my memories. I tried to explain this to my sister who I could tell was exasperated by my unwillingness to get on with the job and throw everything out. "When I see this," I said, "it brings back my memories of Mom. I'm afraid I won't be able to remember her anymore once it's all gone." She didn't have any answer for me.