My poor kids. Both grown and off on their own, each with their own particular style – but both simple, clean, artsy and bright.
For a couple of years now they have been avoiding the subject of who will INHERIT what … usually it’s in the form of “Alex can just have that” or “Just will that to Aly”. I’m thinking there’s a motive behind all this generosity. Neither want to be the one to be stuck with the stuff that I, myself, inherited. And I inherited a LOT!
You probably already know I inherited a ton of rocks which will be used in some way or another when I build the house on Serenity Mountain in Waynesville, NC. But I was also left stacks of vintage books from my parents, two Aunts and a cousin, a cloth clown that my mother made (its locked in my china cabinet – BTW, I’m TERRIFIED of clowns!), china from a Great Grandmother by marriage, and a blue stuffed spaceman from my husband,
Both kids want the Spaceman. The SPACEMAN!
Some things were easy to will away. My cousin LaWanda wants my mothers buffet, Granny Morris’ sewing machine cabinet, and if I’m ever found mangled from falling off a cliff, the china cabinet will go to her as well … along with my lifeless body stuffed inside (unless the kids change their minds).
Many of the things we’ve acquired over our 32 year marriage will have to be re-homed and upgraded … so my beautiful bedroom suit that will be MUCH too big for the Waynesville house, the dining room suit, living room suit, bonus room furniture and the rest of the occasional chairs will go to a local organization that helps displaced family’s in need.
My parents beautiful cherry wood bedroom suit will become a guest bedroom suit, the mahogany birthing/mansion bed I inherited from Grandma Hamilton will go in my study, and the china cabinet will be placed on it’s own wall in the country kitchen! A friend of mine, Mary Leslie, is painting a big guinea fowl to hang on the dining area wall. It will quickly become one of my new most prized possessions. The mirrored bowl and pitcher stand (or commode table that once held a slop jar) will go in the entry-way.
All of these things will someday need a home along with my parents journals, my own journals, photo albums, Bibles that belonged everyone in my family all the way back to Grandma Hamilton, movie films, and all of my Fathers memorabilia from his time in WWII. Who would want all this stuff? If I were the kids at their age and just starting life, I’m not sure I would be willing to take it on either.
They may not realize it, but I certainly don’t want to guilt them into taking on stuff they don’t have any desire to have. As a Mother, it’s one of the worst things you can heap upon your kids conscience. So, every so often I suppose I’ll be parting ways with something that means a great deal to me … but has the potential to mean at least a little something to someone else.
Maybe I’ll start with the clown. *shiver*