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Memory
My mother died several years ago at an advanced age and if any death can be a good death, her's was. Although she had lost much of her sight she did not lose her vision. Although her hearing had failed for the most part, she still could brighten to conversation, even if she needed to say "speak a little louder.
At the end , her health failed quickly and with relative little discomfort. It was as she said: "There is nothing wrong, it is just that I have grown very old". With her faculties intact she pretty much chose her own destiny, deciding to avoid the temptation of a round of surgical intervention that perhaps promised added days, but at what cost . So with a quiet courage , which was pretty much her life's mirror, she passed.
Sometime later, my sister's cleaned out her house. A task that was made easier by the relatively few material attachments that my mother had made. She had actually spent some time giving back things that had been gifted to her over the years. A crystal vase, came back to me, to be passed again to my daughter. But so it was that she was able to strip items from her home beforehand.
This conscious detachment from possessions to a degree relieves children , to some degree, of the onerous task of cleaning out the parental or ancestral home. Something that we all should consider early on. Our accumulations should be released now, for further use by some deserving and grateful soul, rather than to be discarded to a dumpster after our passing, carried off ignominiously to a landfill. Reuse, and repurpose or at least free the burden from your children.
Case in point, three razor scooters which sat in a patio bin at home. They belonged to our children and my wife bought one that she used occasionally with them. But like all things of childhood they fall away as age increases, so they sat and sat for longer and longer. One day three children moved in next door and I gave them the Razor Scooters for their use. My wife was peaved by my act. But eventually she came to appreciate the use that the scooters get , she need only look next door to see them bringing some form of joy to three children, who in the nature of time will soon abandon them yet again.
So in the course of cleaning out my mother's home, my sister took all her papers. Among the papers were every single card,letter, postcard ever sent to my mother by her children, grandchildren, sons and daughters in law. A lifetime of remembrances of mothers day, birthdays , graduations , etc.
My sister then divided them by grantor and returned them to each of us. That act of my sister was a great gift in itself, a surprise type of gift of the best sort. I placed mine in a large brown paper grocery bag, or the type no longer common---due to the advent of the cheaper plastic sack. I brought the bag to my office and went through each individual card, I saved a couple for my children and I pulled our wedding invitation out and gave it to my wife on our 35th anniversary. I had since gone through them again and again.
But what to do with this pile of paper ? I had pleasant recollections of some of the items, but I had no desire to store them, only to be found some time in the future and then to be a burden to others in disposal. But I wanted to give them a proper disposal for they represented love and energy and a good person's attachment.
So on Friday, last passed, St. John's Day, I adopted the tradition of the day and made a large fire in the fire pit in the backyard and burned them. My idea was to release the love and the energy represented by these cards and such back into the world in sore need of both. Somewhere that love and energy will attach to someone in need of it and ours will be a better place.
For my part I will have the memory.