My office is overrun with totes that contain things from my Mother’s house. For a while I had them in storage thinking I would take the time to go through them there. But I kept putting it off. I think the word is, “procrastinated.” When I finally got tired of paying the storage company, I brought them home with good intentions. I was finally going to go through them, sort photos, shred unneeded documents, old church bulletins and assorted notes she had jotted on scraps of paper. Every time I’ve started, I would wind up putting the lids back on the totes and leaving it all just as it’s been now for two years. I do have a clear path from the door to my desk but that’s about it.
Underneath my bed is another long storage box. I’ve forgotten what’s in it now even though I’ve looked in it before. There are four Mutt and Jeff comic books that may or may not be worth something, as well as crocheted pieces that belonged to her mother and embroidered pieces too. There were belts to go with dresses and suits, scarves, a few odd pieces of clothing and a few things I really don’t know what they are.
Barb’s office
Birthday cards, Mother’s Day cards and others with notes or letters fill the boxes. Also in those totes are several photo albums to sort through and mail out pictures to different relatives. There are letters from my Dad to Mom but those I won’t read. I tried but realized they were too personal for me to know the contents. Better left to the ages and time when they were going through their own trials.
Soon though, I have to face these totes with their belongings of the past. Soon it will be time for me to decide what goes to my children and grandchildren as a keepsake. The rest, well, I’m still wondering about those items. But it’s time to get closure for myself, to move on toward the future and leave the past behind with my memories, good and bad of life with my parents. It’s time for some kind of closure.
Recently I saw a post on Facebook about Closure. It basically said, sometimes there is no closure. We just have to move on and let it be.
Maybe that’s where I am, knowing there will never be complete closure but at least I can begin to move on.
And so it is.
– Barbara Tubbs Hill
Writer, counselor, perennial student and seeker of truth and spirit is an apt description for Barbara. Currently, Barbara is working on her first novel with two more planned for the future. Her first book, “Let’s Talk, What You Don’t Know About Credit Can Hurt You,” was written after fifteen years in a career than spanned collections, credit and mortgage lending. Barbara is glad to have been a part of getting the Indian Mound in Florence listed on the Alabama State Historical Register and soon the National Historical Registry. She lives in Florence AL with her husband Johnnie and two precious rescue dogs; Snookies and Daisy.
Comments