610 Bates Street

One of the things I needed to do during the three weeks I spent in Michigan over the holidays was to sort through some things at my grandmother's house. When she passed away in the spring her house was just as she had left it. My mom, aunt and uncle have been working hard to sort and box up everything to get the house ready for sale. It is a difficult job, both physically and emotionally.

Some of the items have gone to predetermined people. Grandma had "given" pieces of furniture, dolls, and dishes to us before she passed. Those were the easy things to distribute. Now it comes down to who wants what and how it will be displayed or stored. My parents have rearranged things are their house some to accommodate some larger pieces including a leather chair that belonged to my grandfather and he promised to me before his death in 1988.

When we went over to the house I was overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of stuff that can accumulate during a lifetime. Everything I looked at brought back some memory of my grandparents. It was so hard to choose one or two things that would assimilate into my life. I asked my mom what would happen to it when the family too had chosen their treasures. She looked at me sadly and I knew. It would be sold or donated to charity. I cannot describe the sadness I felt and feel about the life someone built being tossed away. It made me angry and I wanted to leave it all the way it was, untouched.

Later that night after thinking about it some I had an epiphany of sorts. The stuff doesn't matter. The important parts of my grandmother are still being used by the people who inherited them.

My mother, the oldest of three siblings, has my grandmothers amazing ability to feed people. Having 100 people for dinner doesn't faze my mother nor did it my grandmother. Food was such an important part of my childhood as we gathered around the table for every occasion to celebrate each other.

My uncle Tom, the middle child, has a love of tinkering. He loved racing his car and being around old cars, restoring and driving. My grandmother loved this too. When she died she still had 3 antique cars in her barn.

My aunt Marie, the baby of the family, got my grandmothers love of sewing. She is so talented at weaving fabric together to make beautiful quilts and a variety of other projects.

The oldest grandchild, my sister, got my grandmother's love of writing. My grandmother wrote in a journal everyday about the happenings of the day. My sister continues the tradition and is working toward being a professional writer, my grandmother was so proud of her.

Next in line by age is me. My grandmother and I shared a love of children and making sure the next generation was better than the present one. She served on a committee that restored a one-room school house and was a space for children to go on field trips to see how the children of the past learned.

My cousin Nicole is the next oldest. She and my grandmother shared a love of nature. My grandmother loved flowers and plants and always had large prosperous flower beds. She would spend hours tending to them. Nicole has this same passion and loves to plant and tend her flower beds as well. She works in a nursery where she shares her knowledge and love of nature with her customers.

John is the youngest cousin and he too has inherited wonderful things from my grandmother. He is analytical and detailed. He has a passion for things of the past and is a hard worker. My grandmother was all of these things. She loved to know how things work and ask questions. I see those same traits in John. They also share an affinity for beer :-).

While struggling with the physical belongings from the house I now see that it is what we take away from the person in our hearts not our hands. I did take some crystal that I carefully carried on the plane and a globe from an amazing trip my grandmother took to Australia. They are little things that will be physical reminders of her love and who she was, not what she had.

As we drove away from 610 Bates Street for the last time I was overcome with emotion knowing that someone else will soon occupy the house to begin making their own memories.