As I have mentioned before, Mom was a homemaker. Her job was caring for her family and making sure we were all fed and clothed and nurtured. I don’t remember ever doing without anything I needed – although I certainly didn’t get all that I wanted!
Mom took her home seriously. She spent a lot of time collecting nice things for her house, especially after we all left home. Some of my best memories with Mom involve shopping. Belk was her favorite store and she probably kept them in business through most of the eighties and nineties.
I suppose I get my collecting gene from her. I really like stuff, too. The biggest difference between Mom and me is that I constantly move my stuff around. I like to rearrange furniture or knick-knacks to keep things fresh. I redecorate the mantle and my piano studio to reflect the season. I like to do that at Mom’s, too, but there was a time not so long ago that my efforts were thwarted.
Mom wanted things just so. She didn’t like it when I moved a side table or rearranged small knick-knacks. She certainly didn’t want to part with anything. Lots of new things came into the house and rarely did anything leave.
About five years ago, my sister and I started to systematically clean out closets and under-the-bed boxes. Mom was unable to go upstairs any longer so we started with those rooms. It was a kind of sneaky game for me at first. We found boxes of my old clothes from when I had moved out. Not only were they out of style, I was never going to fit in them again! We tried to send a truckload to the local thrift stores each time Carla came to visit.
I’m so glad we did that cleaning out. As I have spent more and more time over here, I have moved different things from my house to keep me occupied. I took over a third of the back porch with some desk things, painting supplies, and jewelry making things. This summer, however, is the biggest rearranging project yet.
The formal living room in Mom and Dad’s house has seen little use in the last decade. When all the grandchildren were little, we had the Christmas tree in there, but our extended family has long since outgrown that space. In 2007, Mom and Dad moved their bedroom downstairs and what had been the music room was made over to be their suite. The living room became the new home for the piano and where Mom set up her desk.
During the past school year, I used the room to teach a few lessons when I needed to stay close by. A few weeks ago, I asked Dad if I could move my whole studio out there. He agreed so the process has begun. There is a room full of furniture that needs to be relocated and 40 year old wallpaper to come down. I thought it would be a fun project, but it’s turning out to be more melancholy than I thought.
Mom’s handprints are all over this room. I remember picking out this table or that lamp with her. Dad told me the story of the acquiring the stereo cabinet (he traded a car – his Opal – for it!) So many pictures are on display, including our last full family professional picture taken by John Jones in 1991 before my husband and many of the grandchildren came along. Over the piano are the formal bridal portraits in matching frames – two daughters and two daughters-in-law. Even the rug and the sofa speak of Mom and her taste. Moving this room around is emotionally difficult in a way I didn’t expect.
I keep asking myself, “What would Mom think?” She didn’t like for things to be rearranged, but she also liked for rooms to be enjoyed and used. I hope she’ll like it!
