At least, that’s what you would assume by reading the latest email from my sister. My sister is known to take over and my dad is trying his hardest to stave her off but she insists.
When I think of my parents belongings, I get sad that I do not have a house their crystal, the silver, the handmade marble creche from Italy, the homemade furniture from Alaska that my great-great grandfather built, and much more. There is a lot to be gone through and divided up.
What I love most of all was given to others – my grandparents dining table was given to my brother George – what memories did he share of that table other than to simply get things that he liked? And now, after his death the table belongs to his ex-wife. Such a lovely table, with curved and ornate legs that opened to embrace and connect family gatherings.
There are so many memories tied in to the furniture, the legal bookcase, the IBM time clock and many old clocks that they have, their one-of-a-kind signed paintings, the end tables with marble on top. Hopefully, they will move most of this stuff with them when they do move to an independent living situation but they are not moving any time soon.