Gifts

The day after the funeral and the looting of my grandma's stuff, my mom and the half of the family that we're currently getting along with went back to my grandma's house. We went to take care of the perishable items in the house. Technically it wasn't our responsibility. We aren't the trustees of the estate. But none of us wanted things to go to waste or for there to be a mess in her house. That seemed disrespectful of my grandma. And whatever issues we all have with the way she acted toward us, we weren't going to let her house be trashed. We sorted through the refrigerator, the two HUGE chest freezers in the basement that hadn't been cleaned out in years, and the cupboards. Anything still good was divided up and Anthony and I took home 3 huge bags and a cooler full of food. There was as much for every other person to take home as well. The old food in the freezer was taken out of bags and containers and buried. We tried to throw as little in the trash as possible.

The night before, as people were leaving, my uncle told my mom to "take whatever you want". So we did. We barely scratched the surface of what my grandma had in her house. She wasn't a true hoarder, she kept the house neat and clean. But she did have an astonishing amount of stuff. I'm sure part of it was that she grew up during the depression. And that she was living in the house she had physically been born in. She never moved. In 85 years she only lived in that one house. So it had never been thoroughly cleaned out. The attic is jam packed, and every room has things tucked into every bit of storage and nook and cranny. But we sorted through a bit of it looking for some of the most important things to us.

It was hard. In some ways I felt like I was no better than the members of the family that I've been complaining about. But if my mom and my aunt had been in charge, we would have waited weeks or months to touch anything but the perishables and mail. We would have sat down as a group, made a list of items that were important to us, and then compared them. Found a way to compromise on the things that more than one person wanted. It's what my dad's family did when his mother died. It was civilized, and everyone worked together and there were no hurt feelings. But it was too late for that. The ransacking had begun. My uncle doesn't seem to be interested in the sentimental side of all of this. He just wants to get the house cleared out and sold and we were afraid that if we waited, we'd never see the things again. So we sorted through her possessions, and found what matters to us.

There were a couple things that were important to me. I wanted the Dominoes set my grandma and I used to play. A teacup I used to use, some old hats of hers, a scarf I had knitted her. Her library card. Altogether worth less than 50 dollars. And there were other things I chose too. Even though they don't have as much sentimental value, they are lovely and I will use them and treasure them, and have a deeper connection to my family because of them. There is a beautiful old glass fronted bookcase, a black bed and dresser set. A little bit of her costume jewelry. An old white pitcher and bowl set. A few books, several pens with her name on it, a cast iron skillet, two wooden cutting boards (one that my dad made for her) and some serving dishes.

I also took her recipe cards and books. I am going to scan them and type up the recipes. I want to put them on a CD and give them to everyone else in the family. I'll even send the CDs to the other half of the family. Even if we aren't speaking. Even if the worst happens and I never see them again. I still love them, and I don't want to keep something as important as family recipes from them out of spite. That's immature and I'm better than that. They may have hurt me, but I refuse to stoop to their level.