Stuff Rots

I've spent the better part of the last six weeks working on my beloved grandmother's house trying to prepare it for sale. My grandmother hasn't lived in the house for - well - we don't know how long. Her and my grandfather moved in with their oldest daughter when my grandfather's Alzheimer progressed too far for her to care for him.

Initially, she thought she would go back but then her health made it impractical for her to maneuver the steps into and in the house. So it sat empty.

Well, empty of human beings. All the furnishings were where she left them. She continued paying the power, water, heating, and phone.

She was also something of a pack rat. She collected clothing to donate which hung on a line in her basement. But she also kept everything that might be of use later. I can only guess it was a response to her going through the Depression.

There were empty boxes within empty boxes within empty boxes. Pie tins (both tin and aluminum) existed by the hundreds. Empty yogurt containers, magazines and newspapers from the 1970's, books and books and more books. Bills, marked paid and placed back in their original envelopes, existed back into the '60's. A 1950's-era floor freezer still filled with meat - no longer frozen since the compressor had stopped working.

I found a box that housed a coffee mug. Inside was the Hersey Kisses foils, all smoothed out and placed in the box. Not a few. The box was packed with the foils.

All the time the house remained unoccupied she would not sell it. The house, built in the 1920's and beautiful in its day, belonged to her parents and so she couldn't bring herself to part with it. Nor would she rent it. And so it sat. And it deteriorated.

Of course, a home unoccupied tends to invite those who didn't have Grandma's best interest at heart. The house was broken into several times and trashed. They took the glass knobs from the doors and cabinets. In some cases, they took the cabinet doors. They took the beautiful glass chandelier in the living room and many of the light fixtures.

And as thieves do, they threw everything on the floor looking for anything of value.

Then the basement flooded getting everything wet. The furnace quit working allowing everything to remain wet. And that allowed the mold to grow.

The clothing became wet and eventually the laundry line broke plunging the clothes into the water. The wet paper started to digest into a muddy pulp.

While cleaning up, I pulled up a hanger and there was only threads left stringing from the hanger. The article of clothing had rotted away. Only these few threads remained.

We found many old pictures, 80 - 100 years old that had become wet. Parts had rotted away or contained mold. These I will try to save. Others were lost.

My grandmother was devastated by the news and in many cases I didn't even tell her conditions of items she asked about. It hurt too much to see her hurt.

As I contemplate all this, it is a reminder that we should not hold too tightly to the things of this world. There comes a time when we need to let go. The stuff of this world will eventually rot.

It has been a hard lesson for my family and especially my Grandmother who is 93 and very frail.

I just wish I could shield her from the pain.