After the kids left for school this morning, I ran over to Lowe's and then headed to Richmond. The purpose of this trip was to somehow secure the entrances to the home. Not an easy task seeing as the door knobs are missing from both doors. Never mind the fact that glass is also broken out in several places too. Bought a nifty little head lamp, 2 different types of deadbolts because I wasn't sure what the difference was between the two, some latches, and padlocks. Also bought plywood - just in case my only option is to board up the doorways. I had already packed my girlie tool kit complete with a pink hammer!
Also, while there, I met with one fabulous guy from Clutter Cleaner! I went to high school with the owner of the company, Matt Paxton. Just a little plug for his business- it is often featured on an A&E show called Hoarders. Tune in on Monday night to see him and the team in action!
I had called them to discuss the possibility of hiring them to "comb" the house. While it doesn't appear there is really anything to salvage, I worry that that is not the case. Or, perhaps, that is me holding on to hope that that isn't the case. There are a couple of pieces of furniture that could/should remain in the family for sentimental reasons. Probably a lot of trouble for just the chance of recovering a few things, but if I can replace the horrid memories of how I saw my grandparents in July with something once beautiful from their past, I will do it.
I was SO IMPRESSED with Cabell from Clutter Cleaners! Once we suited up in our safety masks, Cabell and I walked around the house. I had not opened the hall bathroom before, but saw it today. I won't even try to describe what I saw. You wouldn't believe it anyway. I teetered between wanting to just run as fast and as far away as I could from this house and wanting to linger in the hopes of finding something whole and untainted. A bowl? A picture? Anything to remind me of the house I knew as a child.
Cabell was patient as I walked him around to the backyard and reflected upon brighter days. I pointed to the spot in the yard that was once an in-ground pool. It's where I learned to swim. Etta was always happy to have us come over to swim. We could always bring friends- usually Leslie and Paul. Cold lemonade and ritz crackers with peanut butter were always ready to be served. Good times.
When Cabell asked me about the bed in the middle room, I had to decline any interest in it being removed from the house. It will never be the same. That was the bed I I slept in as a little girl. When James would leave early in the morning for work, I would crawl out of the bed and into Etta's bed where we would cuddle until a more reasonable hour to wake up. Now, parts are broken or missing. And, certainly I will never be able to see that bed again and not think of that July visit. Whether its right or not, I don't want anything tainted or damaged to remain in existance. The things in the house need not haunt any of us and certainly not James or Etta. The memories can't be stained, tainted, or damaged- they live in our hearts, where they are protected and safe for always. While James & Etta struggle to relive some of those memories, we can all help by sharing our own. I encourage you to write to them about your special memories and to send pictures from now and the past.
After Cabell and I surveyed the situation, I thanked him for his time and prepared to "secure" the doorways per the instructions of the city inspector. - Big Sigh- Cabell generously offered to help me. Well, actually, he offered to just let him do it for me. I hesitated thinking, I can do this. I brought my tools. I bought the supplies. I even have several options. I got it covered. Then, holding my pink hammer and a sheet of plywood, I realized how ridiculous and pathetic I must have looked- probably a little helpless too. Without putting up a fight, I surrendered and graciously accepted the gift of help. I can't tell you what his help meant to me. He wasn't on the clock; he was there to give me a free estimate. I was reminded, once again, that I really am not alone. God knows my heart and my every little need. He worked through Campbell this morning to lighten my burden. I am so grateful for these sparkles of silver lining.
On my way home, I called Anne Price and we spoke at length about my morning. She shared with me an idea that helped someone she knew through a tough time. Reflect upon each day and identify one gift of the day. They are there! Was it a green light when I was running late to get back to Charlottesville before school was dismissed? Was it a neighbors offer to take the kids to school so I could hit the road 10 minutes earlier? Was it something grand like the offer of a stranger to do my muscle work on the doors? Perhaps today's gift is simply a reminder that each day, every day, brings at least one gift. What was yours?
Also, while there, I met with one fabulous guy from Clutter Cleaner! I went to high school with the owner of the company, Matt Paxton. Just a little plug for his business- it is often featured on an A&E show called Hoarders. Tune in on Monday night to see him and the team in action!
I had called them to discuss the possibility of hiring them to "comb" the house. While it doesn't appear there is really anything to salvage, I worry that that is not the case. Or, perhaps, that is me holding on to hope that that isn't the case. There are a couple of pieces of furniture that could/should remain in the family for sentimental reasons. Probably a lot of trouble for just the chance of recovering a few things, but if I can replace the horrid memories of how I saw my grandparents in July with something once beautiful from their past, I will do it.
I was SO IMPRESSED with Cabell from Clutter Cleaners! Once we suited up in our safety masks, Cabell and I walked around the house. I had not opened the hall bathroom before, but saw it today. I won't even try to describe what I saw. You wouldn't believe it anyway. I teetered between wanting to just run as fast and as far away as I could from this house and wanting to linger in the hopes of finding something whole and untainted. A bowl? A picture? Anything to remind me of the house I knew as a child.
Cabell was patient as I walked him around to the backyard and reflected upon brighter days. I pointed to the spot in the yard that was once an in-ground pool. It's where I learned to swim. Etta was always happy to have us come over to swim. We could always bring friends- usually Leslie and Paul. Cold lemonade and ritz crackers with peanut butter were always ready to be served. Good times.
When Cabell asked me about the bed in the middle room, I had to decline any interest in it being removed from the house. It will never be the same. That was the bed I I slept in as a little girl. When James would leave early in the morning for work, I would crawl out of the bed and into Etta's bed where we would cuddle until a more reasonable hour to wake up. Now, parts are broken or missing. And, certainly I will never be able to see that bed again and not think of that July visit. Whether its right or not, I don't want anything tainted or damaged to remain in existance. The things in the house need not haunt any of us and certainly not James or Etta. The memories can't be stained, tainted, or damaged- they live in our hearts, where they are protected and safe for always. While James & Etta struggle to relive some of those memories, we can all help by sharing our own. I encourage you to write to them about your special memories and to send pictures from now and the past.
After Cabell and I surveyed the situation, I thanked him for his time and prepared to "secure" the doorways per the instructions of the city inspector. - Big Sigh- Cabell generously offered to help me. Well, actually, he offered to just let him do it for me. I hesitated thinking, I can do this. I brought my tools. I bought the supplies. I even have several options. I got it covered. Then, holding my pink hammer and a sheet of plywood, I realized how ridiculous and pathetic I must have looked- probably a little helpless too. Without putting up a fight, I surrendered and graciously accepted the gift of help. I can't tell you what his help meant to me. He wasn't on the clock; he was there to give me a free estimate. I was reminded, once again, that I really am not alone. God knows my heart and my every little need. He worked through Campbell this morning to lighten my burden. I am so grateful for these sparkles of silver lining.
On my way home, I called Anne Price and we spoke at length about my morning. She shared with me an idea that helped someone she knew through a tough time. Reflect upon each day and identify one gift of the day. They are there! Was it a green light when I was running late to get back to Charlottesville before school was dismissed? Was it a neighbors offer to take the kids to school so I could hit the road 10 minutes earlier? Was it something grand like the offer of a stranger to do my muscle work on the doors? Perhaps today's gift is simply a reminder that each day, every day, brings at least one gift. What was yours?