Heading home for a week. For one thing, gotta hope to arrange job interview. Then back to Tucson for the Real Mom-Relocation Marathon: final packing, movers, fly with her (and sister) to Florida, settle her in her new assisted living digs.
My suitcase is stuffed with books, including the ones I harvested when mom and I went through her books to decide what she is taking with her. It's very startling: she is done done done with the art books, the opera books,
the American Sign Language books, and the story-telling books. All the passions and volunteer activities* that sustained her for the past 30 years are nothing to do with her now.
One of the books she no longer wants is the Poetry Broadside anthology, my one lifetime occasion of having my name appear in bibliographic databases and be printed on the cover of a book. I tried not have hurt feelings. At least she didn't hand it to me to put on the giveaway pile, but said it should come back to me.
*At various times and for decades at a stretch, Opera Guild, Tucson Tellers of Tales, docent at the Tucson Art Museum, and helper at Arizona School for the Deaf and Blind.
1 comment:
you know, of course, that giving away personal property is part of one's letting go at the end of life. please don't take any of this personally. i imagine she is simply settling into her journey and is instictively making her life much simpler. all this stuff is hard for everyone concerned. sending hugs.
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