grandparents

The last couple of weeks of cleaning out my grandma’s house turned up a lot of junk. I would say 90% junk and 10% real treasure. Today’s post is basically trash talk. This weekend I will bring out the treasure. This is just the teaser. We have emptied out 2 dumpsters already. I come from a long line of pack rats, or according to my sister-in-laws borderline hoarders. I feel bad because my future sister-in-law didn’t even meet my grandparents to see how wonderful they were. This dumpster full is mainly from the garage. I am sure that the house will be a couple more dumpsters full. To think my dad said that we could just bag up the garbage and put it on the curb. I told him I wouldn’t do any cleaning until there was a dumpster.

I found the box above hidden in the back of a closet excited over what might be inside. Surprise, nothing! The 2 years that my parents lived there when I was a baby turned up boxes and bags full of even more crap. Phone books from the 70’s, my baby clothes, stained old elastic shot shirts, and I even found a box with my baby teeth. Gross!

I did find my grandma’s wedding dress pictured above. I remember trying it on when I was 12, telling my grandma that it will be my wedding dress someday. The problem is that it fit me when I was a tiny 12 year old. My youngest daughter, at 12, is bigger than me now. So, that is not going to happen. Plus the buttons on the back of the dress are rusting and bleeding into the dress. I am thinking of restoring it, but for what purpose? It will never be worn again. I hope someday my grandchildren will not be cleaning it out of my closet not knowing where it came from. No memories of their wonderfully great grandparents.

This past weekend was long. We spent half of the weekend cleaning out my grandma’s house. The rest of the weekend I did my 12 mile run followed by watching my daughters perform in a summer school musical theater show. It was a little difficult to watch my oldest daughter perform. She had the lead part and as a senior, it was her last summer school show. Her childhood is coming to an end. My mom and Matt came out to the show, which involved some inappropriate public behavior on Matt’s part. Minor stuff, like yawning loudly and getting up to stretch out his legs in the middle of the show. At least they came out, which I appreciated. My in-laws didn’t bother to come to the show, but stopped by shortly after we got home. My daughters asked their grandparents why they didn’t come to the show. They said they were too busy shopping. They were planning on coming out but didn’t show, which is not abnormal behavior for them. I don’t even bother telling the girls that their grandparents were coming just in case. The last time they cancelled out last minute brought so many tears before a show that it wasn’t worth the hurt. I don’t know how they had the audacity to stop by after shopping. It is what it is.

By the time the weekend was over I felt exhausted and a bit troubled. Cleaning out my grandma’s house has forced me to clean out tons of physical and emotional cobwebs. My brother Mark found this oven (pictured above) while cleaning. I recognized it as mine. Inside there were magazine cutouts of finished recipes. Mark said that I must really have liked to cook because the front right burner was wore out. I thought nothing of it. Then this morning it hit me. It started with a small noise at work. Then it took me back. I could hear a horrible grating sound, scratching like nails on a chalkboard over and over. Then I saw Matt’s hand with a big yellow Lego scratching my oven over and over. I think he was loud, screaming. The next time grandma watched us my stove was banished, locked in a shed for 30 years. A few tears escaped my eyes. My heart mourned over the many things I lost.

It never was supposed to be that way, but it was.

Outrunning my demons

Outrunning my demons one step at a time.

Just rubbish

A little out of range