So there was an article in the paper about some guy who blogs every hour (I think I remember that correctly) and how he manages his life around blogging. I can't imagine having that kind of time. Obviously I am lucky to blog every few weeks at this point!
I am on the other hand getting through the boxes in my mother's new apartment slowly but surely. Some of the stuff has been broken but it is hard to know whether the movers broke it or whether it was broken ahead of time.
And then there are the conversations with my mother about her stuff.
She can't unpack the boxes herself - it is too much of a strain physically and emotionally. So she'll ask me if there is anyway she can help... and occasionally I'll try different strategies. Like on Tuesday I was trying to fit books into her book case and there were 2 I thought had no significance - I'm not sure how they made it this far (with all our culling) so I asked her if we could remove them and donate them - and she insisted that she wanted to hold onto them a little while longer & look through them.
These 2 books that my father had bought at a used book sale at some point and which were not in particularly good shape or of particular interest... but she couldn't imagine letting go of them.
Then today I finally got to the one record cabinet (I know, who listens to records any more) but I found that the record cabinet had been broken by the movers - which made me really angry. It was a nice piece of maple furniture, and they had really broken it in a major way - but you couldn't tell until you tried to open it. But her reaction was "oh, well things get broken."
I know that the records and music mean more to me than to her - they represent my father in many ways to me - and I am not ready to let go of those memories yet. It also allows for some entertainment other than TV when I spend time there. But it was one of those moments when clearly we were on 2 very different pages.
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