I wanted to take today off, but after slowing down Friday and Saturday to restore my salt balance, I find I'm still terribly far from done.
Cathy, Barb's former neighbor and a wonderful lady, came over yesterday to assist and keep me company. While I fretted about packing the shipping boxes so that I can still lift them into the rental car, she cleared out the hallway, the bathroom and started on the kitchen before she had to leave.
I've reduced my mother's life to five and a half shipping boxes. That still seems like way too much stuff, but oh, well. Hopefully, I'll be able to heft them into the car, which I chose as it looks like its rear seats fold down. Except I have no idea how to do so :( And, of course, the car has no manual with it, so for now the rear seats are pushed as far forward as they will go.
We're still unearthing little treasures. Cathy found my mom's silver compact and lipstick case buried in with various beads and small crafting tools.
And then, there's the unsent cards. They were everywhere in the apartment, in nearly every drift of paper. OSM would regularly tell me, "I meant to send you a card..." I got so used to never getting cards from my mom that I would buy the boys gifts and mark them "from Grandma" so they wouldn't compare her unfavorably to their other grandparents. I'm Asian; I didn't want OSM to lose face.
Well, I found them. Cards meant for me and my first husband...for my boys...for my birthdays. All of them ruined by time and moisture and mold.
But it's the thought that counts.