We spent all of last week in the woods going through Mom and Charlie’s estate. I hesitate to use the word ‘estate’ for their place; a better word is probably lodge, as in their secluded lodge in the woods, their personal love nest. This is the place they called “home” for their past twenty years together. It is the place where they nestled between adventures, trips and antique hunts. That is, until Charlie passed away rather unexpectedly in 2003. The lonely year that followed left Mom sad and disoriented, as if she were trying to find herself again and figure out where she now belonged. She avoided their place in the woods. It was lonely there and she admitted that aloneness there forced her to confront her sad reality.
Hardly a year after loosing Charlie, Mom was forced to deal with with her own life or death drama, which in the end, left her bed-ridden for the next four and a half years before she went on to meet her maker on December 1, 2008. Our (her families) return to this love nest has been filled with memories as we have sorted through their earthly possessions. These material things may be remnants of two lives lived, but on a far greater level it is the love, the lessons and the memories that are starring each of us in the face.
Every inch of this place whispers memories of similar kinds in each of our ears. I have found myself standing in my mother’s spots taking in views that were hers for many years, thinking of her and her life on earth. And I have seen my siblings doing the same. We have laughed at silly things we have come across in our ‘weeding out’ process and cried over personal belongings that remind us of the love and care that Charlie and Mom always provided.
Out in the shed I walked around Charlie’s repair shop as if it were a museum- not touching- just looking. I so wanted to see Charlie there repairing his pottery; I wanted his cheerful voice to echo through time and fill me with knowledge and facts as he educated me about antiques and collectibles. They weren’t there though, not Charlie- not Mom, not any more. Only we were there to remember, to hold onto the love and even to let go of what was. It is our job now to carry the torch, to tell the tales, to teach the lessons and to care for one another. We reminded ourselves of the lives they would want us to live and the love we still must share.
As I walked on the beach one evening this week I was reminded that our lives on earth are like the footsteps I left in the sand. In came the waves and washed them away. Our lives are certainly not in vain, but they are short and our time on earth is fleeting. I see more clearly that it is the people we touch, the love of Christ that we share and the lessons we teach that remain. As for the rest of our earthly possession, they will truly be eaten by moths and termites and decomposed with rot and mildew.
It wasn’t long ago that we were going through this similar scenario with Jeff’s parents. Jeff’s father was gone and his mother (Susan) was no longer able to live alone. That was shortly before she came to stay with us. As I head for home where Katrina lovingly cares for Susan in our absence I am reminded of the brevity of life. I am thankful that Susan is still with us and I am reminded that although the days of caring for her may seem long, the reality is that they too will be gone too soon.
"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:
But lay up for youselves treasures in heaven..."
Matthew 6:19
2 comments:
This was a very beautiful and well written blog. It makes me sad that Grandma and Grandpa Boase are not here with us, but it makes me so happy that We will one day see them in Heaven!! I also feel a stronger urgency to spend time with Grandma Susan.
This is a beautiful reminder of our limited time on this earth. I think I met your mom once at Mt. Carmel. It sounds like she left much love for her family to share. Your blogs are a welcome respite from a hectic life.
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