My mother-in-law is 91, her husband a few years younger and
increasingly immobile, and they need to move house. They need to down-size, but
they can’t bring themselves to do so. A major barrier I think is the effort of
sorting out her possessions. She has collected small treasures on her travels,
and some lovely wedding gifts. Her possessions are not worth any money, by and
large, but they are valuable to her personally. She walks around her house, and
sees her life reflected back at her. And she’s not ready to let go of that.
She worries aloud, “who will want my things when I’m gone?”
She worries that her precious belongings will end up at the tip (landfill),
thanks to the unthinking son who told her that’s where most of her things will
go. (Men!) She understands that the younger generations have very different
tastes these days, and knows that we won’t value her things in the same way she
has. Or that we will value different things. And she feels bereft, even before
she gives anything away, knowing that the meaning of these possessions will die
with her.
She has four sons, four daughters-in-law, and seven
grand-children, and still feels this way.
Ironically, perhaps, I am the only one of her sons or
daughters-in-law who has any of her things. Years ago, I discovered she was
going to give away all of her crystal bowls and (not many) glasses. She assumed
that none of her daughters-in-law would want her crystal, perhaps because we
haven’t purchased any ourselves. But her crystal is beautiful, most of it
wedding presents, though a beautiful lamp is a gift from a previous beau. She
has never really used any of it, not being much of a host, and she came from
the generation that thought you should save beautiful things for special
occasions. When she told me she was going to take it to an op shop (thrift
store), I was appalled. “Don’t you dare!” I cried. So that day, I found myself
going home with several boxes filled with crystal.
A year or two later, the same thing happened with some of
her tea settings, and once again I headed home with a full cargo of delicate tea
cups and saucers, silver trays, and teapots. Most recently, she was caught
puzzled what to do with all her table linen, most of it still in its original
packaging, unused. This last time, I contacted my sisters-in-law and adult
niece, sending photographs of each item, and arranging to give them anything
they wanted.
It is strange though that she either assumes we won’t want
her things, or she has a disconnect and just doesn’t think of her
daughters-in-law as family members, people she’d want to pass her things on to.
But perhaps it’s not that strange. She has found it easier to give away the
beautiful things she has never used, than the tiny items she bought in Europe
in the 1960s or in Thailand visiting us in the 1990s. They are the objects that
seem to hold the most importance for her. And that’s what I’ve learned from all
this. Her things are important to her, but not necessarily anyone else.
When I think about it, I actually now have more memories of
using her beautiful crystal and silver than she does, and they’re part of my
life more than they ever were of hers. A dinner party isn’t complete without
using at least one of her pieces of crystal, and I think she likes the fact
that I use her things. Christmas dinner features her silver trays (filled with
nuts, or stacked with mince pies), crystal bowls (at least one filled with
berries and another with whipped cream), and in the future perhaps her table
linen. They’ve become part of my Christmas tradition, as they were never part
of hers. My nieces and nephews know these things because I use them, not
because they once belonged to their grandmother.
Last year, a blogging friend did what my in-laws can’t bring
themselves to do. She downsized to move into a small home in a retirement
community. A year on, she has some advice on the process
here.
She made two very important points:
- Remember that you are not your possessions.
- Trust me when I say that most objects, once you let them go,
you will never miss.
And, in a reminder that this is not just an issue for those
of us who don’t have children, she said, “Don’t foist your treasures on your
descendants. … Taste in furnishings is not necessarily transmitted in the DNA. Don’t
take it personally.”
It is inevitable, even when we No Kidders try not to, to
think about our old age and death. Aside from the perennial unknown – who will
take care of us? – we also often ask the question “who will want my stuff?”
I have possessions that are important to me, that make me
smile every time I see them, that bring back memories of adventure or happiness
or friendship or love but are meaningless to anyone else. They may well be more
important to me than they are to my husband. Even if I had children, there is
no guarantee that the things I loved would be the things they would love. I’m
sure I love different objects of my mother’s than she does, and I’m sure my
sisters love different things again. We, all of us, love different things for
different reasons; we have different emotions, different memories, different
tastes, and as a result, value different things.
I accept that my stuff is important to me, but not
necessarily anyone else. That makes the thought of parting with these things
someday all the easier. I feel at peace too with the knowledge that, after I’m
gone, there is no-one to inherit from me. I understand and accept that my
nieces and nephews might not want any of the things I’ve inherited or acquired
in my life-time. Maybe they will, in the way I love my crystal. Maybe they won't. It doesn't really matter. After all, as Lali said, it’s not personal.
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| Some of my (mother-in-law's) table linen, tea cups, silver and crystal. |
