Send in the Clowns (Or Not)

March 14, 2024 by Jill Schneiderman 1 Comment

This is another old article that I never got around to publishing – I’m cleaning out my drafts and figured I may as well post it. The photo contains just a few of the 55 clowns that I packed up. I gave several away. I kept one, just because but it may end up out of sight.

For years, 131 Beecroft Road was at times my home and at other times my albatross. For so long, it was my home with my sister Michele, but I always felt like a visitor. When Michele died, it became a project – and if you know me, I’m always bored without one. I was feeling very lost when I started packing. It was at the height of the pandemic, so the only place that I could really go was there and like clockwork, for months, one day a week I went there to check the mail, check on the condo and begin the arduous process of packing up 35 years of my sister’s life.

Michele was a keeper of everything. People hold onto memories differently. Michele held on to them dearly, never throwing away a paper or a trinket. Clothes were her weakness, as were shoes, bags, clowns, books and more. She kept thousands of photos, cards, letters, souvenirs. As I went through her photos, so many ended up in the trash. Only a few scenery shots were kept, but every photo that has a person in it will come home with me.

It was hard for Michele to give up keepsakes. I threw away so many things, packed even more for donation, gave some furniture to cousins, other furniture to a woman in need and the rest will be donated to a furniture bank. My sister would be horrified, but they are only things. I don’t need a dresser to remember her or clowns (seriously, why clowns???? They are so creepy). Michele kept a nasty letter or two that my father wrote. They may have found their way into the recycling bin as well. I have no need to remember some of the things that he said. She kept copy after copy of an obituary of someone that she cared about, but who hurt her terribly. I wavered on whether I should keep one copy, knowing how important this person was to Michele. I decided no – they too belong in the trash.

People said that it must be difficult to pack things up. I think it gave me time to deal with Michele’s death with parts of Michele still around. I would look at some clothes that she never had a chance to wear, and think about the times we went shopping together or I would laugh at how much change she kept EVERYWHERE. She saved up more US coins than I’ll be able to spend in a lifetime. She kept address books with people’s names and birthdates carefully written out. I haven’t kept one in years; Michele never stopped preferring a tangible place to keep her people’s digits.

People always think about what they will discover about a person going through their things. I already knew what to expect. Part pack-rat, part sentimentalist – that was Michele. Keep, toss or donate – those were the piles. The donations and toss piles were huge, mountains even. The keep pile is small, mostly books that I’ll give away once I’ve read them and photos – the ever present photos…those I’ll treasure, but the other things….well, they are just things. Especially the clowns.