‘Treasure’ is the only way I can describe the box Sis gave me on the day of the funeral.
Just an ordinary shoe box, but so very, very special.
Inside were several smaller boxes with my name on, written in Mum’s own hand so she had put these things together some time ago. Four contained one each of a set of silver plated crystal Poirot figures I’d bought Mum and Dad one year for their anniversary, another my grandmother’s cameo, others a crystal swan, and a cute little crystal ball of wool with some gold knitting needles in it. Hubby says we will have to have another shelf to put them on.
There was a photo album containing some pictures of her first holiday with us in the cottage. We’d taken her up to the windmill tearooms. Oh my, I was practically at my heaviest then, and dwarfed her sideways!
It was also the first time she’d met MOH and Buddy as their visits overlapped by a couple of days so there were pictures of them in there too.
The exercise book of poems from which Sis selected the one I read at Mum’s service dates back to 1971.
As I read them, I remembered writing them. Some are truly awful, one or two made me laugh out loud and there are a few that are quite poignant and sad. I seem to have been a bit of a lonely romantic always losing the one she loved all those years ago.
There was also a handwritten album of poetry I’d put together for Mum and Dad’s anniversary in 1984. There were a few humourous ones in that too but again most were sad romantic yearnings. Sis had also returned to me the book of poetry I sent Mum for Christmas in 2016.
There were newspaper cuttings of poetry that had been printed in the local paper, and at the bottom of the box the two framed poems Mum had hanging on her bedroom wall referring to her knee replacement ops, ‘The Search for Mum’s Brain’ and its sequel.
She read ‘The Search for Mum’s Brain’ at a Show and Tell afternoon at the Fireside Club she went to before her health really started to fail. Apparently everyone enjoyed it and had a good laugh.
There were some other little things of hers, so preciously wrapped and labelled for me.
Sis had put in copies of Mum’s will and a codicil letter she’d added at a later date. I could practically hear her raising her voice to my two nieces to SHARE her videos and DVDs!
She’d actually written it like that, in capital letters. Bless her, she knew us so well.
On the bottom of the typewritten sheet was a handwritten note ending with she loved us all.
That tipped me over the edge.
We lost Mum four weeks ago today. It feels like an age, yet also like yesterday.
I guess dementia has that effect on everyone, so much is lost yet remembered out of a timal context. The Love is and always will be there though.
Sis is selling up. We don’t blame her and wish her luck in the downsizing game.