Giving Love Away

There’s not much left in my mother’s house this morning. One sofa, a table and lamp in the living room. One lonely more sofa in the long rectangular family room. My grandmother’s bedroom set, my teenage bedroom furniture. A big old desk in the basement and some empty storage cabinets. The new owner was happy for me to leave those things behind. And I, suddenly extremely weary of this process, was only too happy to comply.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the process of giving away my mother’s belongings. There have been many hands involved, much word of mouth, and finally most everything she owned has found its way to new homes, new owners, new uses.

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Full House

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Our house is full this week, with our son and his family visiting us from Texas. Our grandson's  bright and bubbly laughter is a welcome intrusion in these normally quiet spaces. 

They have been visiting us annually each summer for the past four years, and there are certain things that must be done during each visit to Grammy and Papa’s house - things like a trip to the “bread store” in downtown Northville and walking the dogs to get the daily mail. There are certain toys that must be in their accustomed spaces - the parking garage on one corner of the coffee table, a stack of books on the other. In just four short summers we have already established traditions and rituals that he remembers and counts on.

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Futuristic

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A mega-sized senior living complex is under construction across the street from our condo community. It’s the third such complex on that street, since a Brighton Gardens and Sunrise Senior Residence are its next door neighbors. Those two buildings are very nice, large and spacious, with lovely cape cod style architecture. But this new place, Cedarbrook of Northville, puts them in the shade. It is HUMONGOUS. There are four massive two-story interconnected wings, sprawling out across what was once a golf course. The sign promises the entire “continuum of care,” with Private Cottages (up to 1400 square feet and attached garage), Independent Living, Assisted Living, and finally Memory Care. 

Our current neighbors are mostly 55 and older, with the majority within the 55-70 age bracket. My standing joke when construction at Cedarbrook first started last fall was that it would be a convenient place for all of us to simply move across the street when the time was right.

But in the last six months, I’ve begun to think it’s not that funny. Or far-fetched.

Betwixt and Between

Many mornings this summer I’ve woken early, brewed the coffee, and taken my first cup outdoors, quietly excited to see what’s happened in my small garden overnight. I call it a “garden,” but it’s really just flowers planted in the landscaping that circumvents our condo. Because we’re on the corner, we have a large enough area to add a good number of annuals, planters, and garden ornaments amongst the existing greenery.

Now I’m no “gardener,” at least not in the sense that many of my friends are, with lush backyards filled with perennials, annuals, and even ponds or fountains. My small space is just the right size for my gardening talents, and each year we’ve lived here I’ve enjoyed planting flowers and trying out new combinations of potted arrangements. 

Mark My Words

Four months ago today, my mama died. Yes, I’m still a tangled emotional mess, still apt to cry at when I’m making her potato salad or applesauce cake, still punched in the gut when I walk past the Happy Birthday, Mother, greeting card section of the Hallmark store, still overwhelmed with loneliness when I pick up the phone to call her and suddenly remember she’s not there.

But there is no doubt that the sky over my world is a little brighter. I’m no longer exhausted all the time. I’m motivated to go out in the world and do things again. When I’m engaged in activities or doing things with friends, I don’t feel as if I’m swimming through mud just to get it done. That’s all progress for me.