Memories

This post has been a few weeks on-the-brain. It started with helping an old friend clean out her parents house. Her parents are moving and selling her childhood home. A home that, when we were growing up, she swore she would raise her children in. Funny how life changes things, isn't it?
Sitting in the attic sorting through linens, boxes, dishes, finding odds and ends of things saved by her mother, it was hard. emotional. overwhelming. I can't imagine ever trying to do something like that alone. Almost every piece holds a memory of an event, a funny afternoon, a story - even those that don't, then make you wonder why it was saved, what made it special.
I have helped with the cleaning out of my grandparents, a great aunt, my husbands' grandfather homes/apartments and it's never easy. No matter where the person is in their life - downsizing, moving to assisted living, moving in with family - it's never easy.
Watching those you care about have to go through it, makes it harder. I think it's the memories that make it difficult. It's not just 'stuff'. It's the painting that your mother had when you were a child that she always loved or the chair that rocked you to sleep when you were little or the dish that always held little red candy hearts  or the platter that always held the turkey - no matter what it is, the minute you see it you re-live that memory before then having to figure out what to do with that piece. keep it? sell it? donate it? give it away to family or friends?
There is something very final about cleaning out a house to sell. I don't think it's sad, just bittersweet - filled with mixed emotions that come with change and the story we tell ourselves about what is coming next.
I have moved a lot since I left home and while I tend to dread the packing and moving, (I'm not big on change for the most part) I have always moved to a better spot - bigger or smaller, more people or less people - it's always been a move to fit the situation and one I have never regretted.
Memories are tricky - some good, some bad. My Mum always tells me to remember the good times and try to let the others fade away. I certainly try! But I also know that all those memories are experiences and adventures that helped shape who I am and who I'm growing up to be. No, I don't think of myself as grown up yet. Still find it hard to believe some days that I'm married, have a house, a dog, a job, a car, etc. I feel like I was only 18 yesterday!!
I don't really know where to end this and looking back it seems a bit rambly but it's something that's been rattling around in my head for a while so I thought I would share. Sometimes stuff is just stuff. and sometimes stuff is memories - not the actual stuff at all.