I talked and yelled and cried for a while, then I sat and listened for a while. It was almost as if I could hear her say, "It's alright to let go."
Of course, we all know I'm more than a little addlepated, so...
I called Sis and asked if she wanted to come over and sort through some stuff since I was there and Mom had said it was OK and all. I didn't tell her about hearing Mom or anything, because that would have just cemented the signature on the form for my committal into Ye Olde Funny Farm.
Which, come to think of it, doesn't sound like such a bad place sometimes. I wonder, do they have blogging there?
Anyway, she appeared (Sis, not Mom), and we started in on the desk. One single, simple, freestanding piece of furniture. It's even a BABY desk, not regulation size. But I kid you not, every nook, cranny, drawer, crack and crevice was filled to bursting with all kinds of treasure.
498,349 nail files. 32 pairs of tweezers. 67 pens, pencils, and even one tube of "Double-Sided Glue" - whatever that is. I always thought glue as a whole was sticky, and I didn't know it had sides. Essential oils, empty Altoids boxes, empty check boxes that had been filled with all manner of screws, bolts, fasteners, nails, buttons, and a cache of other booty whose worth remains in Mom's eyes only.
Sis, God bless her, had me laughing so hard during most of the sorting out that there was no way I could possibly cry. What would I do without her? We kept imagining what Mom would say if she could see us going through her stuff - how she'd give us "that" look and what little snide thing she might say, and it had us rolling.
Let this be a lesson to you. You never know when someone may be going through your drawers tomorrow. As the Bible so aptly puts it:
Guess I'd better get cleaning.
James 4:14 NIV