By: Gerri Graves
Word on the Street Issue 45, July 2024
. . .
Have you ever felt removed from a scene that you are witnessing?
This whole month, I have been sorting through 40 years of accumulated stuff. Every tote opened was a memory I had lost over the years. Morgause’s clothing. Veronique’s costumes I made her. Julian’s awards he won in wrestling and jiu jitsu. Quilts I made. Rennie costumes. Pictures. Halloween tchotchkes I made and accumulated. My Victorian velvet couch and matching chairs. My silk shades I made, positioned on antique lamps (my stately ladies). My gothic phase clothing. A painting of King Arthur’s death…..and the barge of Avalon coming to fetch him in the mists beyond. Vintage and antique textiles that I love to make functional things out of. So many pairs of Doc Martens. (A girl needs all the shoes, after all)
Little by little, box by unopened box…..my life laid out before me. Every surprise brings bouts of joyful squeals, or sorrow. So much sorrow.
From house to storage to shoebox abode……some things had to go. Reluctantly at first, but painless towards the end……I sorted, dispatched and mentally let go.
It was a weight I didn’t see. A weight of accumulated memories perched neatly upon my weary shoulders. I carried it for so long, being the undelegated keeper of our family’s mementos.
I kept the important stuff……and ridded myself of TEN TRUCKLOADS of unimportant stuff. What a freaking relief! Someone out there is gonna find some old gems for sure, as I always went straight for the antiques…..and I couldn’t keep them all.
I found myself unpacking as fast as I could…..just to reclaim some of my worth. My dignity. My…..humanity.
It was then I had this sort of revelation. I had been watching people walk by, at work, at play…..jogging in the park. Watching a world I no longer felt a part of.
Like that serene snow globe village. I could look in……but I wasn’t a part of that serenity. That…… normalcy. I was the outsider with my life on hold, and watched covetously as others enjoyed theirs.
I had no idea my mind was set in that way, until I began unboxing my ‘normalcy’. With every box, I gave myself permission to resume a life interrupted.
I pulled out my book of recipes, and began cooking. I bought ice cream…..and ravaged a bowl full at three in the morning. Loads and loads of ice…..in everything. (What a freaking luxury ice is!) Pulling all the tassels on all my lamps….and providing far more light than I needed and feeling rather opulent in doing so. Petting the velvet on my sofa, and feeling the vixen. Hefting all my books into my barrister bookcase and admiring my collection of Medieval History, Poetry, Classic literature, Arthurian legend, Mythology…..mixed in with a little George R.R. Martin, Anne Rice, Stephen King and Brother Cadfael (to keep me honest). I even found my favorites……my ancient hardback of Tennyson and ‘Li Sao’ by Chu Yuan.
Reclaiming my life. Taking it back by force. By all that beats in my weighted chest….owning it. Mine again. I’m in that snow globe…..pounding in the stakes of reclamation.
Note:
I am so aware that had I not been peddling papers for donations, I would have lost everything. All my family’s memories….gone.
Thank you to Hillview Methodist and Cathedral of the Rockies…..for allowing me space once a month, and for their congregations that provided me the ability to pay for my storage. Thank you to the Ealing’s for their help in sorting out my 40 year mess of memories and putting up with me through physical and mental pain- Chris was there, with bells on….day after day. (I couldn’t have done it without her.) Thank you to Denise Caruzzi……for everything she does for all of us. Thank you to Jeannie for allowing me to store a few totes that I couldn’t fit into my small place.
I owe so much gratitude to those that got me through.
Here’s to……being a part of the human race again. Tips a beer your way Cheers…..and thank you from the bottom of my still beating, HOUSED…… heart.