Turning a home into a house isn’t an easy thing to do. It is bittersweet. My sisters, Roberta and Tanya, and I have had that experience with our mom’s home over the past few weeks – removing 61 years of life, love and laughter, so the house becomes neutral, and ready for the next owners.

The three of us spent a couple of days going through things the week after mom’s funeral, and then I returned to Virginia for a couple of weeks. During my time away, they did a lot of the heavy lifting around the house – getting rid of old clothes, emptying the closets, removing some old items that were of no value, and moving furniture around to improve the look a bit.

When I returned a week ago, we were going over more of mom’s personal items. We went through her hope chest, several small cedar boxes, her jewelry boxes,  and containers of papers and photos. As we were looking through all of them, we found things that were funny, sad, historic, and sometimes, just odd. There were many we had never seen before.

– There was grandpa’s perfect school attendance record from 1907, and mom’s report cards from grade school through high school; 

– Christmas cards from 1949, along with the Christmas card from dad to mom when he gave her the cedar chest in 1948.  

– There was a letter from an Ottawa GI who was in Germany in March of ’45, and hoping the war would soon be over. (He called mom “Toots” in the letter).

– Mom’s garter from her wedding.

– Les Paul and Bing Crosby records from the late 40s or early 50s.  

– Vintage 1950s era naked playing cards (I’m assuming they were dad’s).

– Obituaries of friends and relatives.

– Collected papers, photos, and school stuff from us kids, and all of the grandkids.

– Newspapers from when Kennedy was shot, and Nixon resigned.

– Notes and notebooks from trips, grocery lists, and sometimes just reminders about things around the house.

There was LOTS more, but you get the idea…

We laughed a lot, but also had moments of sadness or pause. For me, finding all the letters from my first year at West Point brought me up short (She’d already given me the penny I’d swallowed). And, silly as it sounds, what do you do with a telephone number (and an actual telephone that still works) that have been in the family since 1956? We made our way through the week, keeping some things, and throwing others away. We slowly removed the soul from the home.

On Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, we had a cookout with the whole family, including kids and grandkids, and our Uncle Don, mom’s last surviving sibling. Before dinner, the grandkids had their own moments of joy and sadness. It was their turn to pick out things they would like to keep as memories of grandma, or just things they could use. And so the clock went, along with knicknacks, Christmas decorations, candy dishes (mom loved M&Ms and jelly beans), some of the furniture and dishes. From the garage, dad’s tools and railroad artifacts, as well as lawn chairs all moved out.

That night, after everyone left, I finished cleaning up and wandered around a bit. It was the same house that I’d known since mom and dad bought it in 1956, and yet it wasn’t. It was all a bit colder, or emptier. Maybe the soul was gone, and it really was just a house, and no longer a home.  

I went to bed, but not really to sleep. Too much emotion…. to many thoughts rattling around my head…. wisps of dreams…. seemingly strange noises from outside….   Finally, I heard the birds starting to chirp in the yard and got up. It wasn’t quite light yet, but it was getting close. I made a pot of coffee and took a quick shower. It was time to get on the road and head to my own home, 750 miles away.