This February, at age 93, my mother’s health necessitated her move into a care home. Short weeks afterward the Covid-19 lockdown arrived to where she lives in British Columbia, and since then she has not left her new building. As the lockdown continued, she, my brothers, and I agreed that her apartment of 30 years should be put on the market. I offered to drive out and sort through the belongings that remained in her place, working for five days with my niece Amy to empty closets and cupboards of the things she treasured – china, linens, framed pictures, and so many family photos. We created piles of items for each child and grandchild, took pots and blankets to Value Village, soberly carried chipped crockery and ancient magazines to the garbage bin.
On our last workday we pushed hard to box items for transport to their new homes. Garbage bags bound for Value Village filled one car, while my brother carefully packed furniture and boxes into my vehicle for the drive back east. Busy in the apartment that day, the weight in my chest moved with me. Often I stopped, hand to my throat, acknowledging the emotional toll of emptying a lifetime of possessions from the home my mom and dad shared for almost 30 years. Finally we stopped, so weary; what remained could be handled when another brother arrived the following weekend.
In each room I said my goodbye, remembering. I stood in the empty bedroom where each morning we chatted with our coffee, tea, and the obligatory plate of cookies; the kitchen where we made strawberry jam and played TriOminos; the dining room table where we celebrated Christmas Eve with Chinese food; the living room where the Christmas tree stood, where our kids slept on the foam mattress; the balcony where I held my tiny daughter, watching hot air balloons rise in brilliant colour against the majestic backdrop of Mt. Baker. We drove in our overcrowded vehicle out of Blue Heron Estates which was for so many years the place we came to, the neighbourhood where we walked, where we greeted old friends, and where we returned to after those fabulous trips to Value Village. It was the home where I cradled two of our three newborn children and the hall where we gathered after dad’s funeral. We had no need to travel there now. We would travel to a new neighbourhood.
Mom’s care home was on the way to my brother’s house. She put on her jacket, stepped out onto her first floor balcony, and leaned over the railing towards where we stood among the rhododendrons. We told our stories about which of her treasures we had stuffed into the Durango, stories that valued those things with which she had created a welcoming home, stories we hoped would please her. And my mother looked me full in the face and blessed me. She told me of her love and gratitude, not only for my work, but for who I am. Her loving warmth, beaming down to me, thawed the emotion frozen in my chest; tears rose to my eyes.
At the end of that hard day I decided we could treat ourselves to a consoling Cobb’s Bread danish. While we waited outside, six feet apart, for the previous customers to leave, I enthused to Amy that I had spotted a single chocolate raspberry croissant remaining, my favourite! Stepping up to the counter, I began to give the clerk my order, only to find, when glancing into the display area, that the beloved croissant was gone. “Nooooo,” I keened to Amy. “The chocolate croissant!” Immediately, one of the two young men at the next till held out to me a paper bag – the chocolate croissant. “Here,” he offered, “you take it, please.” I backpedaled, protesting, but he insisted until I smilingly took the bag, offering thanks. Suddenly, the clerk who had served him popped a danish into a bag and offered it, smiling, to the young man, “on the house”. One of the customers in the line outdoors broke into applause as he and I exchanged a final warm smile. I looked at my clerk and again felt the tears well up. “I’ve just spent the day clearing out my mother’s house,” I say – then quickly add, “She’s still living!” The feeling in the air is warm and kind as the scent of baking bread, as a family welcome.
Darlene Pinter 
Loved reading this Darlene. Although my mum is still happily at home I sense this season approaching. Thanks for sharing ‘little moments’ that remind us how to do life well.
Thanks Megan. I’m grateful that my mother is still so well. It would have been a very different experience otherwise.
I look forward to reading more of your writing & hearing more stories 💕
Jordan, thank you. I appreciate your encouragement, and miss your company.
Thankyou for this …..so tenderly penned…..so many rich decade old memories of you and yours…..you are a gift 💗
Cheryl, how kind of you. Thank you for taking the time to send your encouragement.
Beautifully written and shared cousin. I have such good memories from the Blue Heron years and time spent there with your parents.
Donna, thank you. Your care and love has been such a gift to my mom and to us all. It won’t be the same to not be able to hang out with mom in her kitchen, will it?
Darlene,
Your writing is lovely, heartwarming and real. Thanks for sharing your heart. I cried as I read, remembering going through my Momma’s things and deciding on what she should have in her little room in the care home. I wanted everything that was left , so many memories, slides, photos, linens, china, figurines, over 30 Gaither videos 🙂 I wanted to keep everything she had as each item had a memory. She’s been gone now, 5 years already and I miss her still so much but I wouldn’t wish her back… Heaven is so much dearer now.
Janice, it sounds like you and your mom were very close. So I feel very moved that my writing connected with your experience. Thank you for taking the time to tell me.
I’m so grateful that I was able to be there to remember as I went through mom’s things. My brothers are just not as interested in that. And yes, it’s so hard to make the choices about what to keep. I have a large box of photos and mom’s diaries and genealogy information that I have yet to go through.
The Gaither videos – perfect!
Yes, we were close. We lived together for 10 years before I married 13 years ago and moved to Victoria.
So exciting that you now have a blog! Loved the story about the chocolate croissants!
Bill, I’m so glad to share it with you. You and Gayle have been my cheerleaders for so long. Thank you for your encouragement.
Tears well up as I read this post. I feel like I was there with you as you describe the experience. You are such a beautiful writer Darlene and I look forward to many more blogs!!
Thank you Melissa. You are so dear.
Thank you Darlene for taking us back to your childhood memories. Very well written. Keep it up. Looking back to our mission journey, we don’t have ‘one’ home with all the memories collected. We have changed numerous homes (in Lucknow itself we lived in seven different rented homes)! By the time we built our own home, children were ready to leave the nest! So, we have to drive through different homes to bring back old memories. Look forward to read more from you.
Hello Moses. It’s so good to hear from you here in addition to your family newsletter. Yes, my parents moved a lot when they were younger (and when I was a kid) but in their retirement they settled and lived there the longest of anywhere they ever lived. They welcomed so many family and friends to come and stay with them. We all feel the loss.
I’m glad to know that you and your dear family are well and safe, and you will be a grandparent this fall! Perhaps it’s time for you to begin growing a beard like Rob Sinclair’s.
Praying for you and for India during this time. Lord have mercy.
So glad to see you writing a blog! I have just been through a massive apartment-emptying on the sudden passing of my dad 3 months ago. My mom died 2-1/2 years ago. Thank you for putting into words the strange mix of emotions we felt as we dealt with each item.
Kathryn, thank you for taking the time to send your encouraging words. I can imagine all the time, the physical and emotional energy it has taken you to sort through your dad’s place while you were also grieving his unexpected passing. If you’re at all like me, there are still piles of papers and photos to go through, with all the decision fatigue that comes with that process.
I hope there is time and a quiet space for you to rest and be refreshed this summer. I just wish that sometimes that space could be closer to Moose Jaw.
Thank-you Darlene. So lovely to read – my eyes are damp and my heart is full.
Catherine, how kind of you to share your thoughts with me. You certainly remember my mom’s old place in Langley, too. Thanks for being the kind of friend who also loves my mom.
Thank you, dear Darlene. I echo Catherine Fenn’s words exactly. And I promise, I won’t ask you to do this with us for my dad one day!
Very dear Dar,
This piece made me emotional as I remembered doing the same for my stepmom and then my father. You describe the feelings well. Life is so rich and so fleeting. We live our moments , our days and then the months and years usually hardly realizing how sacred they truly are. You have given me pause to give thanks as I look back and remember .
And I LOVED your story about the pastry! Haha! So great.
Catherine Reichel
Had a tear with you Dar! (I am soon heading out “again” to try and clear Mom’s collections with my sisters). Saying goodbye to places and belongings full of happy memories is so hard. Your Mom is so lovely. Please give her my love and keep sharing my friend!
Shelly
Thank you Shelly. It means a lot to hear from you. I’d love to get your new mailing address.