You make my dreams

It's so weird what oozes out of the foundation of your parents' house when they move after 30 years. All the detritus they've gathered through time, all these things that once had meaning but now are total headscratchers.

These are some of the items that I've either wanted to absorb into my own house or was guilted into carrying out.  Keep in mind that almost each and every one of them was also accompanied by a phone call from mom saying, "I found.... would you come over and look at it, maybe you want it?  And this is just from the past week.  The cleanout has been going on for months.

• Needlepointed pillow with floral design of poppies on it. "It's a NICE pillow. Grandma made it.  She did some NICE work on this...you'd be crazy not to want it..."  fine.  I like poppies.  Poppies...
• Slab of marble that my mom found in her father's garage and had buffed and polished, intending to make it into a table.  Um, yes please!  When am I going to have it made into a table top?  Who knows?!
• Children's books.  "These were yours."  "I thought you already gave me all my kids' books?"  "No, I was hanging on to these..."  "Why?"  "I DON'T KNOW JUST TAKE THEM!"  OK.  "But you can't take these in this pile because they're really good quality illustrated children's books. I just love them.  I don't know what I'm going to do."   "Ma, just take them with you."   "Yeah, I guess."
• Little silver bowl that we think belonged to my great grandmother.  "Do you want this thing?  I think it's silver..."  "Um YES it's silver and yes I'll take it."   The other offerings included random silver-plated pieces, wooden fruit bowls, a pressed-glass cordial set, more demi-tasse spoons that I would ever need, a few dozen Christmas gift boxes, and so much more.  "Sell them, sell them, donate them."  Whenever I'd refuse a hand-me-down I'd get the, "You don't WANT that? It's so cute/useful/nice/old?"  "No Mom, I CAN'T."

• Bright green Tupperware bowl.  "It's a reallly nice bowl"  "then why don't you keep it?"  "BECAUSE WE HAVE TOO MUCH STUFF I CAN'T KEEP EVERYTHING!"  Ok, fine.

• Sheet music.   Holy sheet!

The piano that I played for 15 years is staying attached to the house. I've already experienced the guilt trip through time.

"Remember when we first got it?  In case you didn't, here's the original brochure from 1974!" 

"Remember when a piano was really well made?  Now these are all made in Korea and they're nowhere near as nice."  

"I can't believe you didn't want this piano. I sure hope the new owners play it."    "What do you care, mom?" I asked. "Nobody has played this piano in twenty years."

"Go through the sheet music in the bench, see if you want anything." 

All the memories of my various piano teachers, good and bad, came back.  The nice old lady to whose house I'd run a mile each week after elementary school, the scary lesbian in her dark little living room who insisted I'd be an excellent concert pianist and made me play lots of Mussorgsky, and the weirdo guy who pounded Beethoven into my head and insisted I perform in recitals, which I hated.  Hmm. I wonder why I didn't continue playing the piano.

There were some other gems in the bench, including the requisite "Stairway to Heaven," the classic from what must have been my synthesizer years "Too Shy" by Kajagoogoo, and this treasure:

Actually, a really good song.  I think Oates should have kept his moustache.

Comments

[Krisitin]

I wonder if they will hang up those really old photo collages in the new house - the ones by the powder room and laundry room. I will miss those if they don't.

[blaugra]

Yes, they are going to hang those!

You would freakin' die if you witnessed all these conversations. And when I tell my mom what I really think, she says, "Aren't you glad we're going through everything now, instead of leaving it all for you to deal with later after we die?"

Why yes, I'm glad we're doing it now, when you're not dead. I'll take whatever you want me to take, now that you brought THAT up.

[joanne]

I'm planning on a controlled burn of my parents house when they kick the bucket. They've lived there 29 years and counting. They are pack rats, and quite probably worse than yours. :)

[blaugra]

That's an excellent plan, Joanne.

[Kristin]

I would be laughing my arse off ifI were there while your ma would be rolling her eyes at me. Do they still have a stash of Pepperidge Farm stuff?