The Place Formerly Known as Home

May 8, 2023 by Jill Schneiderman 3 Comments

Tomorrow is a big day. I’m dropping the keys off at the place formerly known as home, although, I’m not quite sure that I thought of it that way. I’m happy/sad. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted and the bonus of not having to renovate to sell is the best thing that could have happened. I’m also glad that there was a short closing date. In one week, the place was packed, the items were sent to the dump or donation and about 40 boxes, mostly books, clothes and photo albums went into a storage locker.

I won’t say that I was sad to see everything go. It’s just hearing Michele’s voice in the back of my head saying don’t throw that out – it’s still good, and having to ignore it and do what I knew was right. I hope that wherever Michele is that she understands that I’m not throwing out her memory, although, I had many moments of guilt over it. I just don’t want clutter.

It’s weird when you see an empty apartment that you once (and until Tuesday own). You can see the possibilities more clearly. But seeing it empty and seeing those possibilities also made me realize that I’m happy where I am. I’ll miss my neighbours there who were so kind over the years, but we are still in touch. I won’t miss the area and I mentioned this before, but I never felt like it was mine.

My mother always told me that her place was my home, meaning that I was always welcome there. It feels like home in the most important ways possible. I feel safe here. I have memories, both so happy and so sad here. But, I’ve never felt more at home anywhere than at my grandmother’s house.

So yes, I’m so sad at the thought of losing another little piece of Michele, but her memory is with me, not in that one place. My mother too. But it’s now time to get rid of the things that I no longer want here – and there is so much that I’ll be getting rid of, but I was spared on renovating one condo – it’s time to do the other – eeeek! It will be good though – it’s time for a big change.

One of the things that you are never prepared for when people die is just the volume of their things. When my father died, his contents were sent to Michele and I in one little white box. My mother had a condo filled with EVERYTHING but she came from a time when people had big parties and entertained more at home. Michele was a collector and a pack rat (not a hoarder – there is a difference).

It’s always challenging trying to combine homes, memories and the such. You have to be pretty ruthless, but I can honestly say that I haven’t thought twice about anything that was thrown out or donated. And I won’t miss anything that is taken out of here either. The only things that can’t be replaced are the people that lived here and there and I’ll miss those people for the rest of my life.