“For now we see through a glass, darkly”
How
apt that quotation from 1 Corinthians 13:12 is on an Easter Monday. I am also reminded of another
quotation from the same chapter of 1
Corinthians 13.
“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I
understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put
away childish things" 1 Corinthians 13:11
It
often amazes me how our perception of things change when viewed from a different perspective in new circumstances.
Sometime
back we had a close relative who we would visit on regular occasions. A sweet
little old lady who was so patient and peaceful. She would always serve us tea
in fine bone china cups and poured this from a silver teapot on a silver tray.
There were always some form of ‘treat’ associated with the taking of tea – a
homemade cake or a slice – made with loving hands in the old way before the
‘Quik serve’ of the supermarkets prevailed over family celebrations.
This
relative lived in a residential block of single level flats that was reserved
for persons over the age of 65, so that she lived in common with many that were
of her own age, yet each had their own self-contained accommodation. You could
mix or not mix, as you chose to do so. Previously her husband, now deceased, had resided with her.
The
complex had a common open area, a green space, tended to by a contracted
gardener. Each resident had a small concrete patio that opened on to the garden
and they were allowed a small plot next to their patio where they could sow
plants of their choice. Each of those areas adjoined their neighbour’s garden
but the housing authority arbitrated on the space one could use for personal
gardening. My relative was content to have her small area in which she grew
some fresh garden herbs for the kitchen and had planted some purple flowering
Irises, a flower she liked very much, which also served as a demarcation point
between her plot and that of her neighbour.
It was
a pleasant place, bright and sunny aspect and as we sat and drank our tea the
sun would shine into the living area, warming and lighting it naturally. I
would look around at the wall decorations, the pictures of family on the
bureau, coloured prints on the wall – mostly landscape scenes - the
accoutrement's of a lady living alone that surrounded us, lace and linen tablecloths and her ‘sewing corner’.
There was an air of peace and tranquility and
I was struck by how fortunate she was to be able to live so comfortably in her
mature years.
She
became unwell and spent some time in hospital. The time came when she passed on.
At her funeral service her son, the executor of her estate, told us he had been
approached by the housing authority. They had another person to come into her
flat in the complex and they needed it to be cleared of her belongings as soon as
possible. All flats were repainted and re-carpeted on vacancy and there were
trades people on stand-by to carry out the renovations. This was the Thursday
of her funeral.
There
was some discussion amongst the family as to who would have the task of
attending to her possessions and clearing her flat. It fell upon us as we lived
close and her other family were more distantly located. I asked her son if
there was anything that the family wanted from her possessions and was told to
dispose of them as we saw fit and it would be left to us to decide. I was
slightly taken back as I recalled all the fine things that were in her flat and
was surprised that no-one wanted anything. I was told that there was little of
value and what was there would probably find its way to the local garbage tip
or ‘Op Shop’.
We
advised the authority for the complex that we would be there on the next Monday
to clear out her belongings. So, towing a box trailer with lots of cardboard
cartons folded flat and armed with rolls of gaffer tape and marker pens, we
arrived early on the Monday morning.
The
painter was waiting for us. I spoke to him and told him that we had not even
made a move on clearing the flat. He explained he knew that but would we mind
if he had a look to see how much work would be needed. He explained that her
flat had been listed for re-painting and re-carpeting three times during her
occupancy and every time she had refused to have it done, saying she was happy
with the way it was. A quick look and he
took a rag out of his pocket, wet it under a tap and wiped it over the dining
room wall. It left a large brown smear with a lighter centre. He said he would
be back that evening to sugar soap and prepare the walls so that he could re-paint it
tomorrow before the carpet layers arrived on the Wednesday.
The
painted wall that we had always thought as a coffee brown colour was actually painted in a light
shade of cream. It was then that we looked at the carpet, moved a few mats and
noticed that it was ‘tatty’ and going threadbare – but scrupulously clean. From
there it was a tour of discovery.
The
bedroom contained an old wire framed double bed base with wooden head and wooden footer, a dresser with mirror and a wardrobe. It was all older style stained wood furniture. Inside the wardrobe clothes were divided with summer dresses to one side and
winter dresses to the other. Beneath her dresses and a single grey coat were a
row of shoes and a pair of slippers and all well worn. On top
of the wardrobe were cardboard boxes, all taped shut. We opened one to discover
that they were full of men’s clothing – her long deceased husband’s clothes - she had never been able to let them go.
The
bed linen and blankets were also well worn and thin. An electric blanket was her
sole concession to cool winter evenings. The dresser was full of underwear and
the sort of things one would expect an older lady to have.
The
kitchen was well used and all the kitchenware bore the signs of that use.
Baking dishes and trays brown with wear, pots and pans showing the dents of age associated with their use. The
crockery was plain and mismatched. The ‘good bone china’ consisted of four
cups, four saucers and four dessert plates. The ‘silverware’ was well worn , the
base metal showing through years of being lovingly polished.
We
found some new sheets still in their shop wrappers and we also found some
towels, tea towels and tablecloths that we could make use of. Most of the other
linen was worn but carefully repaired. The cotton of the lacework was fraying
and signs of careful repairs were evident. We were able to see some use for some of the kitchen utensils. There
were very few items of personal value – the odd broach, a pendant on a chain
and some paste jewelry.
There
was a knock at the door. An old man stood there with an unlit pipe clenched in
his teeth. I recognised him as a local antique and second hand furniture
dealer. He told us that the authority had told him we would be here today and
he wondered if there was anything he could take off our hands. He must’ve seen
the flash of anger in my eyes. He raised his hand and said:
“Now
hold on sonny. I’m not here to take advantage of you. I know these old flats
and the people who live in them and there’s hardly a one with any furniture
worth nought.” He went on, “You can haul it away if you wish but I doubt if you’ll
find much useful applications for it. Most of it will probably end up as
rubbish or at the Op Shop. If I take it then someone who needs affordable furniture will most likely get to buy it”
“I
have a second hand furniture shop at the back of my antique shop. I don’t make
much out of second hand furniture, barely worth my while handling it, but it
does draw people through the front shop and that’s where I can make a living. I’m
happy to load and haul all of this out of here for you and I’ll take to the
garbage tip what is of no use or cannot be re-sold by law – that mattress for
example.” He pointed into the bedroom with his pipe stem.
We
asked him if he like a cup of tea? He said that would be nice but would we mind
if he drank it while he worked. He called in his off-sider and they began to
move the furniture.
By the
end of the day the flat was empty. We had kept about a quarter of its contents
and knew within ourselves that much of that would also be thrown away.
So,
what is the sum total of a lifetime on this earth?
“for
we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world.”
1 Timothy 6:7
“Naked a man comes
from his mother's womb, and as he comes, so he departs. He takes nothing from
his labor that he can carry in his hand.” Ecclesiastes 5:15
Happy Easter to all and remember that
Easter is the time of re-birth and renewal, God has given Christians "a new birth
into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead"
6 comments:
What a sweet, gentle post. I loved it! Happy Easter to you. Smiles - Astrid
At first I thought what a sad story,but then as the painter said she was happy as it was.
Yes, she was happy, in her own way. I guess she had made up her mind to live out her remaining life in familiar surroundings as long as she could. Change was what she could not handle and I think our visits were a 'constant' in her life - she was always spruced up and ready for us, tea made and baking done!
John, what a lovely heartwarming account of your caring. Thank you for sharing, as it deeply touched my heart. I am so glad she was able to live her life as she wished, with also enjoying I am sure each and every one of your visits.
"Just Me"
Thank you! I'm pleased you could read into it what I wrote and why I wrote it.
God bless. ♥
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