Before she passed away, The Bevinator always liked things a certain way. She was very particular about how she kept her house and, more importantly, how her things were arranged. So it’s no wonder I was anxious about sorting through all of her personal belongings.
She’s been gone almost three months to the day, and yet not one thing of Mom’s had been touched. Her comb was still sitting on the vanity. Her purse was still hanging in the closet. Her coffee cup was still tucked next to the Keurig. I would have been quite content to leave everything where it was, but I felt an overwhelming urge to get everything organized.
Clearly the anal-retentive apple did not fall far from the Type A tree.
I figured going through Mom’s effects would be cathartic. And it was — until I stumbled across an unopened bottle of her fancy-schmancy perfume. One spray and I was immediately reduced to tears because of the flood of memories it gave me. Her signature scent wafted through the house and felled everyone in its path.
Wisely, I chose to hire a professional organizer to jumpstart the process. (Thanks Eliza at Simplicana!) Mom’s stuff had stuff and I was not in the right frame of mind to tackle it by myself. I grabbed Mom’s beloved sister, The Karen-ator, and my two other aunties to help get things squared away. If anyone was going to help honor her legacy, it was these three wonderful women.
The things we unearthed elicited plenty of crowd reaction. “Is that—GASP!—a tube top?!” one of my aunts laughed. “Oh, whew, it still has the tag on it.” Seems The Bevinator never really found a place to get in to the (shoulder-bearing) groove. Meanwhile, in the far reaches of the bathroom closest, we found a small box holding some of my baby teeth. Turns out the tooth fairy was secretly a hoarder.
Going through each drawer or closet was like a trip in to the Wayback Machine. Some things I had long since forgotten about and some items I never even knew existed. (How many heating pads does one woman need exactly? If you guessed four — you would be correct.)
We found an original pair of my late Grandpa Bryan’s glasses that he probably wore since the late 1950’s. We discovered Mom’s wedding dress, which was remarkably well preserved given that Mom and Dad would have been married 60 years next year. And we found clothes, jewelry, make-up and accessories from every era since JFK was in office. The most shocking find, you ask? My mom must have had a secret fetish for bright, neon pink lipstick. While I never saw her wear it, there were probably a dozen different shades, ranging from garish bubblegum to a craptastic hue of cotton candy. Turns out The Bevinator was the original Pink Lady!
I learned a lot about my Mom today. It was a special glimpse into her very particular, very private world. She squirreled away a lot of sentimental things that were joyous to find—memorable costume jewelry, old romance novels and more hand lotions/creams/ointments than any human should own. The organizer said I might experience a bit of teen angst this evening after the house got quiet again.
On the contrary, I feel like Mom’s spirit has been renewed—and her hands are soft as ever.
Michael, I am so sorry for your loss. My family recently did the same thing for a different reason our, Mother did not pass but we helped her move to a senior living apartment. Many same emotions passed thru our guts, that’s where I felt it anyway. In the pit of my stomach, aching, going thru her “stuff” and deciding what she should take/have with her since she would not know she ever owned it anyway, dementia is so much like a thief. I love that you wrote about this. We all have to do some form of this at some point in our lives. Doing it with love and respect for the person and those four heating pads or in our Mother’s case her timers in every room, is what makes t h e difference in our memories of the great loss we experience when our loved one “moves” on. Take heart, sounds like you are a good son and did a good account.
This is so poignant, touching and filled with love. I’m so glad you shared this sad and yet meaningful day with us”through your fabulous writing. What a gift.