I am up early this morning. Not as early as I usually write. The sun is up and it is a bit cool out this morning and windy. I have been thinking about everything lately and found it ironic that at this time of sorrow how I don't write. I do write in my journal at work maybe once a week and I have been trying to put together a poem that I felt should have been a one time sit down and spill it out kind of thing but it is not coming out that way. Nothing really comes that simple right now. I was thinking this morning about the fact that I don't write because I am not the only one feeling this sorrow and I don't want to discount anyone else's feelings by making mine seem important. I guess that is the empathy that I have. I don't discount anything of someone else's but I am always able to discount my own.
The first thing that came to mind this morning was the word sentiment but I thought how similar it is to the word sediment. So you cherish it or you throw it out, just one letter makes all the difference in the world.
Life is always full of challenges but these I face now are so difficult for me. I hold them inside, maybe not to let go. And I keep telling myself I need to let go. I cannot hold on to everything not even these feelings. I am thankful that depression is not figuring into this. I know some of you are thinking oh but it is Jeanne, you just don't realize it. But it isn't. Trust me. I have a life time of experience and one thing when I am heading down that hole I know it. This is different. I am motivated to do things it is just I am overwhelmed with what to do first. But yesterday Billie, Al and I made a dent. Be it a small dent. We went through mom's clothes. We started with two bags. Garbage and donate. We joked when we had filled the 5th bag of donate that since we each get one fifth of the contents of the house we each get a bag of clothes. I know that is stupid but that is how it is. If we didn't joke about it I might cry, but I didn't. When we were through we donated 6 bags of clothes and had thrown out two. I feel like we didn't even put a dent in her room but we did. I need to not discount our accomplishments no matter how small.
So next week is mom's birthday. I said we would all go to lunch at her favorite restaurant. Just the 5 of us and family. I thought about inviting more but then that becomes a big thing and I don't know... I just want it to be us and I want it to be nice. Maybe afterwards we can go to mom's and each pick a few things out of the house. This is the part that is hard for me. Not that I don't want them to take things that remind them of mom and grandma but then I picture the house with pictures missing off the wall and then it will not be the same. I know it is never going to be the same. I realize that every time I sit down in the living room and look around.
I think about the show American Pickers because when they buy something from someone they always make it like they are going to cherish the thing they purchase. They always say that they are going to pass on the story of the item and the person that owned it and if even the only person that is going to remember the story is a person that saw it on tv I guess that matters. Someone will remember. But don't they only cherish the item until it is in the truck and the camera is off and then it is going to their store and their going to sell it. Now the person that is going to buy that farm fresh find of theirs will they cherish the thing or did they buy it just because it was on tv. Does that matter?
I really wish something that was inside me would spill out onto this page and make all of this easier. Some realization that will make this all ok with me. I wonder if mom knew this part would be this hard. Then I look around my own house and want to get rid of stuff. Because it is just that. Stuff. Most of the nick knack things in my house were given to me. I am not one to buy things for myself. Mom used to love to buy anything with geese on it because I had some Louisville Stoneware that had geese that I liked and geese canisters in my kitchen. I now have geese all over my kitchen but I had only bought the Louisville Stoneware pieces. When I had cats mom would buy me any cat figurine she found. So our living room has all kinds of cats. I only have one I picked and I painted it to look like a cat we used to have. I know the reason I hold onto these things has to do with that I remember that mom bought me the cats and the geese. That a girl from work gave me a black cat angel when she left and that a guy that sat by me gave me the snoopy race car figures I have and that a funny looking figurine in a safari suit was on Brian's birthday cake one year. I can walk through every room in the house and tell you who gave me what and why or when. Then funny thing is I guess it is just stuff but stuff someone bought for me. So am I not to cherish these things? Maybe that is it. I guess I always felt if someone gave you a gift that was something you should keep because they bought it for you. I know most people don't remember where everything they owned came from or maybe they just use it until they don't need it anymore and then it can be discarded.
Maybe that is the part that bothers me most, the discarding. If I get rid of the thing that they gave me am I getting rid of the person that gave it to me to begin with. Am I discarding our relationship or the fact that I even knew the person. Or is it that I think if I get rid of the thing they gave me that I will discarding them. I know the rest of the world is just like throw the shit out Jeanne.
Today this blog is not going to be one that I get up from and feel like I have accomplished something, or come to some conclusion. It is as mismatched as the things in my house and mom's. A jumbled bunch of thoughts that don't even make sense to me. Part of me wants to delete what I have written and go back to bed. But then this time was wasted if I throw out what I just spent the last hour writing. Maybe like the time spent picking out the cats and geese for me and the time she spent saving all the things in her house. Maybe that is it. Maybe I feel like she will be forgot if we get rid of her things or her house. I know that is not true but maybe that is the moral of this whole mess. She equated the things to her worth and I equate them to her memory.
Like I said, are all these things and memories are they sediment or sentimental? The fact that I don't discard them makes them sentimental but can they be both. Can I remember that I had them and that mom enjoyed the find and I am done using them or looking at them and can get rid of them. Can I? I guess that is the question.
