Shirley Carter <cartersa@pacbell.net> wrote: I enjoyed reading about the uninstersted partys and the treasures they dumped.When my father passed away in 1966 . Mother was living with one child to the next. Because no one wanted mom to live by her self.One day several of my siblings went to help my brother and his wife help mother to do away with things.They left late messages to us less fortnate them other that this was taking place.I know a sister just older then me we had to work to take care of our families and couldn't afford the time off. So after work and an hour drive to mother's house,there was nothing left.My brother had his pickup truck backed up to the back door ,and as people went through things befor we got there didn't want it , or mother didn't want it .It was put in my brother's truck.He informed my sister and I that we could not go through the truck as he didn't want to reload the truck.You see I come from a family of 15 children and only 10 lived from that 15 and all but one brother who was in virginia and one sister in Oklahoma lived in California.Some within 30 minutes and other's to within an hour from mom's.Well needless to say there was slim picking by the time my sister and I got there.I guess all the good stuff was already claimed. And all I got was a neckless and earrings costume jewerly and I guess my sister got mom silver-ware.she was promised from the sister that had given to mom the , set she gave my sisteralso a set when she got married , and it all matched.So what other's didn't want it went to the dump.I look back now and could kick myself for not going through that truck and taking what I wanted.Well my brother talked my mom in to sell the house , and needless to say he got all that money. So when mom expired she was living with a siter just older then the one I went to mom's with.That sister gave me a depression glass beverage picture that mom had bought while living with her.So I can hontesly say I got very little, and was not given the chance to take anything else.I guess all the pictures went to the dump and any records mom had saved went with the pictures.Too bad and soo sad that I let this happen , but if you were in my place what would you have done?? .There was no will or trust made far as I know for neither mother or dad.I am 3rd from the last children mom and dad had.Now I am trying to do the geneolgy and having a hard time finding the ancestor's.But I will keep chuggy along and say I did it myself even though it is hard.I want my children to have what I never had. My grandparents on both side's were gone when I was growing up.So I never knew them,like some of the older kids did.I guess you can't cry over spilt milk so to speak. Shirley Hi Shirley, I do Know how you feel. I come from a very large family also and they tend to be very greedy. I was adopted by my grandmother and raised in her home. She is kin to the Taylors of Knox and Luarel co. Ky. When she passes on there is only one thing I want out of the whole house nd that is a picture of my greatgrandfather and his twin taken in 1902. thier mother was a taylor from Laurel co.that picture has meaning to me an no one else in the family. i will make sure I get it. Now with all my research going on my grandmother is my lne to the past and I am pumping her for info all the time.good luck with your research. vicky slone CCarnivale@aol.com wrote: > Sunday Afternoon Rocking > > Sometimes Sunday Afternoon Rocking wants to be a story���and this is one of > those times. I hope this makes a difference for many of you. ~jan > ******************************************************************* > > The Cleansing of Lifetimes (from the Sunday Afternoon Rocking series) > > Martha had five children. > > Harold had passed away as a young man. Though he had grown children yet > living, beyond a few trips to see their grandmother in her latter years, > and the fact that one of the two did make the funeral, no one really > considered that they were a part of any decisions, nor did they expect to > be or even seem interested. > > Marjorie lived just up the street from her mother's home place, but she > worked part time three days a week and the other days kept her > grandchildren so that her daughter could work. Her daughter was basically > at the stage of life that keeping up with a house full of toddlers and > trying to bring in a little extra income was her sole focus in life. > > Phyllis lived cross-country and could not afford any extra trips beyond the > funeral. Her children had barely known their grandmother Martha, and > basically remembered her as a signature on birthday and Christmas cards. > > George was not going to be of any help at all, telling his sisters they > could do what they wished about the "things", and to keep him informed > about when the estate was settled. His own grown children apparently felt > the same as no one in the family remembered seeing them outside of a > photograph since they graduated high school. > > And so the finalization mostly fell to Ethel, and no one really questioned > that. Ethel it was who had handled their mother's affairs when she was > living. Ethel it was who trudged on, silent and uncomplaining, as some of > the others might half-heartedly offer help but more than half hoping she > would not take them up on the offer. Sometimes she was almost glad at this > sad state of affairs, for it meant she could simply do what needed to be > done and not bother with trying to catch up with her siblings. > > But for a chore this monumental, Ethel needed help. The three story > Victorian home was cram packed with generations of living, and because her > mother had basically lived on one floor for many years, the grime and > accumulation of dust and clutter on the other floors and in outbuildings > was beyond comprehension. This, coupled with the paperwork of winding up > affairs, had Ethel (in bad health herself) in a turmoil. And so, sensing > her desperation, and knowing her siblings would not oblige, Ethel's grown > children (Sally and Dan) and a couple of her closest friends (Maude and > Virginia) volunteered a week to help. And for the first time, Ethel > gratefully accepted help. > > She did not see how the accumulation of several lifetimes could possibly be > sorted and cleared out in a week's time, and she was glad for the help. > > Monday > > Dan sighed and wrinkled his nose at the musty smell of the basement. He > had volunteered to begin in what appeared to be the nastiest chore, trying > to spare the ladies. He cursed silently under his breath as he hit his head > on a swinging bare light bulb, and then in a few more steps stubbed his toe > on an old trunk in a darkened corner. If it were not for his mother, no > way would he be taking off precious personal leave to spend knee deep in > clutter, nose clogged with dust and mold rather than salty sea > air. Grimacing, he tugged at the trunk and sighed as the latch fell off in > his hand. He gave a swift kick and as the trunk tumbled its contents > spilled to the damp floor. Fifty or more old letters and documents spilled > out. Glancing at them, he saw no name he recognized, and trying to open > one produced a handful of yellow crumbling bits of paper. Sorting through > the papers, attempting to find value in them produced nothing but a pair of > filthy hands. Dan remembered his own work rule: If you have touched > nothing on your desk in thirty days, it goes in File 13. Simplify, easiest > way to stay organized. Another glance at his filthy hands, and noting the > streaks of dirt on his crisp khaki pants decided him. He rose from his > knees, and disgusted, he stomped to the stairway and snatched a large green > plastic trash bag from the stack he had brought to the basement with > him. Grandmother was such a packrat. > > Tuesday > > Sally sighed and wrinkled her nose at the stuffy smell of the attic. She > wriggled her shoulders and thought how glad she would be to escape this > oven and stifling heat. Dan had volunteered to do the basement. The least > she could do was the attic, and spare the older ladies the climb up the > steep attic stairs. For three hours she sorted and tossed: a moth eaten > garment that dated back fifty years or more, a hat with some sort of > peculiar netting attached, yellowed gloves that had once been white���finally > she tossed the whole of the clothing into garbage bags not even bothering > to look at any more of it. She was hesitant about throwing away a Bible, > but its pages were crumbling and the binding was literally gone. No one > could possibly read it without difficulty anyway, and it was past > repair. Finally she laid it in a box of rubbish for her brother to burn, > never bothering to flip through its end pages. > > She hesitated, running across an ancient heavy picture frame. Personally, > the frame was too heavy and old fashioned for her tastes, but she had an > idea it might have some antique value. She peeled away the backing and six > large old black and white photographs fell into her lap, crumbling at the > edges. "Ugh!" she thought, looking at the old woman in kerchief and bonnet > that graced the first one, "She looks like something out of a bad horror > movie!" And Sally hoped it was not an ancestor. Glancing through the > others she saw the poor quality of the photography, and nothing she would > want on hanging on a wall of her home. Moreover, they were simply too > large to simply hide away in a photo album. Knowing her mother would > probably want to keep these, whether she knew who they were or not, Sally > hesitated again. She thought of the limited space in her mother's > apartment. Sally knew where these things would end up being stored. She > did not want to store them, and her husband would absolutely hit the > ceiling if any more things came in the door. Well���what her mother did not > know would not hurt her. Out of sight, out of mind. Sally pitched the > photos. > > Wednesday > > Maude gently removed the china, the crystal, the silver from the old glass > fronted cabinets. "How beautiful!" she exclaimed, calling Ethel to see. A > smile played on Ethel's lips as she held up a china pitcher and remembered > her own grandmother pouring from it. "Yes," she answered, "It was my own > grandmother's and her mother's before her. Somewhere in the attic we have > a photograph of each of them, and I think my grandmother's marriage > certificate is in a trunk somewhere." Ethel's smile slowly dissipated and > she looked thoughtfully at Maude. "I can't bear to let any of this go," > she said, "And I have no place to store it. Sally simply does not enjoy > this sort of thing and her husband will hit the roof if I ask them to store > anything else for me. Do you mind to keep it all until I can find out if > one of my sisters would like to have it?" Maude agreed, never knowing that > she would not live out the year herself, passing away two weeks before > Ethel herself. > > Thursday > > Virginia folded the quilts carefully into boxes, tucking tissue paper > between each, and laying on top pillowcases that had been painstakingly > embroidered with roses and iris. She found a bit more room in the corners > to tuck crocheted doilies and tatted dresser scarves. She called Ethel and > asked her what should be done with the boxes. "Put them out on the porch", > she replied, "That is where Dan is stacking the things he brings up out of > the basement." Virginia obligingly did so, and that afternoon, Dan, never > knowing any other boxes had been added to his pile, loaded up his pickup > truck and headed for the dump. > > Friday > > Ethel stacked all of the keepsake boxes she had packed in a corner of the > dining room, and at the end of the day, as the sweaty tired crew sat at a > piled dining room table gratefully plunging into fast food, she broached > her question. "Sally," she said, "I know I have stored a lot at your > house, but would you mind if I just left a few more there? There are these > and just a bit more that we have packed away out on the porch and what you > got out of the attic. If you don't want these, we can talk to Phyllis and > Marjorie, or your own children might want it someday���but I just can't bear > to���" > > Sally sighed. Her mother had no idea that she had not saved one thing > out of the attic, nor had Dan saved anything from the basement. Sally was > not about to tell her, but out of guilt, she finally agreed that the boxes > could go to her own home���just until her mother had time to talk to Phyllis > and Marjorie. > > Saturday > > Sally was at a ball game watching her youngest score two touchdowns. Dan > had flown home on the morning flight, and hit the sack early, playing > "catch up" on sleep before returning to his office Monday. > > George called wanting to know how fast the house would be sold. He planned > to purchase an in ground swimming pool for his back yard himself, and his > share would provide that, and probably a new sports car for his son as > well. Marjorie took her sister a casserole, apologizing that she simply > did not have time to help, and assuring her sister that she really did not > want anything out of the old house and it was Ethel's to do with as she > pleased. Phyllis started twice to pick up the phone and call her sister, > but she really did not feel like the emotional drain of once again > realizing she would probably never be able to make the trip home again, and > there was no home to go to anymore anyway. > > Sandy, one of Harold's children who was into family history, called and > asked if she might have copies of any old pictures. Ethel assured Sandy > that if she would make the trip next summer, she could borrow them long > enough to do so. Ethel also told her there was a family Bible that she > would find interesting. > > Ethel sipped coffee and picked at the casserole. She had not seen how the > accumulation of several lifetimes could possibly be sorted and cleared out > in a week's time, and she was glad she had had the help. > > Copyright ��2002JanPhilpot > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > (Note: Afternoon Rocking messages are meant to be passed on, meant to be > shared...simply share as written without alterations...and in entirety. > Thanks, jan) > Sunday Afternoon Rocking columns are distributed weekly on the list Sunday > Rocking. This is not a "reply to" list, and normally only one message per > week will come across it, that being the column. 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