“Sandra, in every room, in the drawers in the kitchen and bathroom, the pantry, closets, shelves…you are everywhere. My heart no longer rests in my chest and my grief is often selfish, but I just do not how to handle this.
I worked so hard to clean and shine every room so you would be proud, with only one small bedroom left. You designed and decorated it all. In our bedroom, your slippers are beside the bed. In the kitchen, your sneakers are close to the door. I even changed the drapes in the sunroom, putting up the white French Toile so you can see outside. The wood floors reflect your love of beauty and ‘properness.’ Everything in our home is you. The smell of your Risotto with shrimp and peas still lingers in the kitchen. The scallops and crab are waiting.
And, also waiting is all the ‘STUFF’ you enjoyed, brought you family comfort, kept you warm when we were outside, sparkled from your ears, neck, and fingers. The shoes you wore to work in the garden are waiting. When I opened a bedroom drawer, I saw the Mardi Gras mask you wore years ago, touching my “Phantom of the Opera” mask from a long-past Holly Ball. Your special dishes and vases…all there.
All the beautiful clothes. The perfumes. The Shalimar I gave you last Christmas. The jewelry is carefully and delicately still placed, waiting for your touch. All the belongings you collected from teapots, to teacups, to butter molds, to weaving looms. Each one was special to you, and to me, because of what they meant to you.
In the hall closet are all your coats, from the lightest summer, to your warm wool winter coat. By the back door, your old blue hoodie sweat shirt still hangs, with the tear in the back from where you caught it on the barnyard gate in our farm in Virginia. You never wanted to part with it.
Last night I stood and gazed at all your cooking utensils, molds, cookie sheets, special spatulas, the roasters from my grandparents and parents and then, there are the things I do not even know, in my wildest dream, ‘Want are these things’” Some of this and most of this “STUFF,” I will never use, but I do not want to part because all these and so much more, were important to you. You so enjoyed life…a life all too short. Doing for others brought you so much joy. Why GOD?
When I am in the library/sunroon, I pick up a biook and I am holding you. I hope you do not mind, remember I changed the drapes so you could look at your garden blooming. Please look at the headers and see it I straightened them the way you like. I am trying so hard. It is so hard to see clearly through tears.
Sandra! Sandra, please listen and help me decide. For when I am gone, no one will care about any of this…what it was, who it belonged to, why they kept it. No one will care! Remember when we used to sail our Hobie Cat? Well, right now there is no wind in my mainsail and my jib shows no flutter.
Sandra, I am looking for answers to questions that do not have answers, at least not right now. I know there is no right time to part with certain “STUFF,” but I hope you do send a sign. As you know so very well know, I do not always make the best decisions. But I also know, only I can make these decisions…a little whisper would really help. Send a dove, a bee, a butterfly, or a bunny…when it looks at me, I will know it was sent by you, or maybe is you. And, I will listen to the message. Until then, my love, remember, “I love you more.” – Mike
OK friends, until Sandra lets me know what is right and what is wrong, I would like to hear from you. If it is not too painful. Here are some burning questions about “STUFF:”
When is the right time. I know the answer, but when was it right for you?
Clothes: I have set aside some of her special ones and will hang beside mine forever. What about the rest? I would look toward a family which has lost so much. But, what about in the meantime? I want to hand them to a person, not an organization. Her wedding dress still hangs well cared for.
Cookware: I will never use. They were all special and important to her, but I will never use them. At least I do not think I will.
Jewelry: Her special ones will never leave my side…her wedding ring and diamond, and a few selected others.
Perfumes: They still set on her dressing table. When I open a bottle, I smell her. They will stay.
Her weaving looms: One is a 19th century barn loom, the size of a 4-poster bed. The other, a much smaller modern French loom, a Leclerc. She wove such beautiful coverlets, blankets scarves, shawls, and more ., most from thr wool of our sheep.I want to donate the looms to someone who will use and appreciate history.
Her beloved books: She was such an avid reader. I will keep them, but in my Will, I want some to go to the Botanic Garden library. Cookbooks, not sure. Her historical novels and related, also not sure.
Her recipe collection: From old world family ones to the the best and most exciting French recipes – 60 years worth. All meticulously collected and filed, some so used and faded, they are hard to read.
Dear Friends, this is just the beginning of my search for answers. Please help. By helping me, you may help others who will all too soon be me. Being ‘One,’… it is the loneliest number.
Looking forward (hopefully) to hearing from you soon. Remember, my decision making is questionable.
As Sandra always said ending her blog in whereinspirationblooms.com,
I worked so hard to clean and shine every room so you would be proud, with only one small bedroom left. You designed and decorated it all. In our bedroom, your slippers are beside the bed. In the kitchen, your sneakers are close to the door. I even changed the drapes in the sunroom, putting up the white French Toile so you can see outside. The wood floors reflect your love of beauty and ‘properness.’ Everything in our home is you. The smell of your Risotto with shrimp and peas still lingers in the kitchen. The scallops and crab are waiting.
When I am in the library/sunroon, I pick up a biook and I am holding you. I hope you do not mind, remember I changed the drapes so you could look at your garden blooming. Please look at the headers and see it I straightened them the way you like. I am trying so hard. It is so hard to see clearly through tears.