I’m slowly losing my mind. It’s so slow, it’s not even painful. There’s a certain peacefulness in accepting that the rest of my life will consist of sorting, boxing, and moving my mother’s belongings.
One thought on “…and that’s why I’m not getting any writing done”
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oh, Joel. you’re into that labor of love too? I think I may have told you that my husband passed in February. We knew he was a collector of some valuable stuff but realized he actually was a hoarder when we discovered not just one item, but 2,3 of the same thing. And what made it worse was that he never did anything with the items other than store them where ever he could find room. Now, ow are we supposed to handle all of that? [rhetorical] We know the method extant today but someone has to do it. I send the best wishes I have for you being able to do what you have to do with your mother’s earthly possessions.