A Foreword
Well I put it to the vote, and it turns out that the "binned" post the majority wanted to read was this one. I was surprised, and, checking on my statcounter, the vote seems to have been swung by some last minute voting from those who have not commented..so in a way the Silent Majority has spoken.
When I finished this originally I thought, first of all, that there was too much scope for offence being taken locally here in Cheesetown. I also worried that it was maudlin. I've since decided that the Cheesetown Mafia aren't too nippy around blog sites, and I can probably risk it. Plus, the Silent Majority has spoken, hey?
Looking back over this blog, I was struck by how few entries I have giving useful advice. This latest is an attempt to rectify this. And, yes it's a bit on the specialist side, but then 18 months ago I didn't expect to be clearing out a dead man's flat either.
Here goes. Ten hints for clearing out after the dead.
Hint1 There's no rush. Don't expect that you'll have to clear out household and personal goods immediately. Wayne had his own flat when he died. It took over a year before the lawyers were finished.
Don't bother asking the lawyers what's taking the time. They'll only look at you like you farted, mutter about The Pension Provider, and charge more.
Hint 2 Mind you, having said there's no rush, don't leave clearing out till the last minute, when anyone who could and would help is on holiday. This will mean you end up doing it alone.
Hint 3 Gumtree, Freecycle and house clearing agencies are only going to get you so far. Turns out they're all choosy about what they take. And nobody's going to want a five year old telly. At the end of the day it's going to be you, the bin bags and boxes making trips to charity shops and the tip.
Hint 4 Take more boxes and bin bags than you think you could ever need. And don't forget the newspapers to wrap the dishes and glasses in. If you do, you'll end up like me; wrapping it all up in Christmas wrapping paper you found in the cupboard. This looks strange when you drop it off at the charity shop.
Hint 5 Bear in mind that the dead can always surprise you. Who'd have thought Wayne of all people would have kept all his clothes folded so bloody neatly? They are nearly all clothes you remember well. And this was the man who considered money spent on clothes money wasted. There's going to be the shirts and jackets yoU bought him, the T shirts from holidays in Sri Lanka and Vietnam, the sweatshirts he's wearing in photos left around you. And there will still be the smell of him, soap and talcum and tobacco from the clothes in the wardrobe.
Hint 6 It starts to get really tough when you come to binning the stuff that was important to him that no one wants anymore. Postcards, his books on Maori history, CAMRA membership card, his list of Monro climbing guide carefully annotated.
Hint 7 Don't rule out that in between the birth certificates, and CVs, and old travel diaries and photos, you won't find a love letter.
Which is not written to you (see hint 6).
A love letter written to a mutual friend who has kept unsurprisingly quiet about all this for years.
Hint 8 Use the anger. Old love letters to other people are actually one fantastic way of fuelling you through this. Bastard. Who cares about the music (couple of hundred CDs and counting), the tapes (all those hundreds of D90s dating back to London 1990), binned. Bastard. The books, the mementos of the Springbok tour protests 1981, boxed. Going. Bastard. The real ales guides, the travel guides, the dominoes, the Sheffield Wednesday and All Blacks scarves. Bastard. See how you like it when all your shit is boxed and gone.
Hint 9 The living never fail to surprise either. The van man from Bethany Trust was round to collect the sofas and bed. Turns out his partner committed suicide three years ago. Hung herself on the back of a door. He misunderstood the tears. What I'm saying is, always remember to bring tissues. It might not be just you that needs them.
Hint 10 You can surprise yourself. You can rise above it. I took a couple of pictures round to Her House,because she'd said she wanted a memento.
She'd always liked the photo he had hanging in the bedroom.
12 September 2011 at 07:22
So the love letter hadn't been sent?
12 September 2011 at 07:52
I voted for this... probably because I had to do all this last year - although we had to do it almost immediately as it was rented. I can identify with a lot of this - but we already knew about the girlfriend.
The weirdest part was going through so much stuff that had been "ours" and I had walked away from. Certainly would have been much harder to do it the way you had to...
but great post :)
thank you !
12 September 2011 at 08:16
Rog - It was a draft. I don't know if a final version was ever sent.
Fi - Absolutely until I found the letter the weirdest bit was going through the old shared and remembered stuff from happier times.
12 September 2011 at 10:04
I'm afraid I was one of the silent voters but, when I voted, there were 14 votes and half had voted for the rant, so I didn't tip the balance.
What a good post, and I don't think that anyone mentioned could take offence, although one person might feel uncomfortable.
My sister and I cleared our mother's personal papers and clothes immediately, before the funeral, while we had the fortitude to throw stuff away.
12 September 2011 at 10:07
I can well imagine the rage could get you through it. The bastards!
12 September 2011 at 12:04
A very personal post for you and thought-provoking for the rest of us.
Can we have the others published too - maybe slot them in once a week as a bonus post?!
12 September 2011 at 13:50
Ah, Macy. Practical advice.
THe clothing. The scent of the departed. These are the things that truly speak to me. The love letters? Perhaps a word to the wise for all of us, eh?
Love this post.
Pearl
12 September 2011 at 17:35
That must have been hard indeed. But as usual you come through with flying colours because you're a CLASSY LADY!
Well, most of the time. :)
12 September 2011 at 19:06
But perhaps that's good that the love letter was a draft. Perhaps he thought of sending it but then thought better of it. Maybe nothing more ever happened.
Did you ever ask the mutual friend about it?
12 September 2011 at 19:39
Z - Thanks! I threw out or boxed most of the stuff at mine immediately. Maybe it's as well it took so long to get round to doing the flat.
Pat - Could have been worse, she could have been helping me clean....
Trish - Thanks. Maybe I could look at more recycling.
Pearl - Thanks! Maybe a reminder to all of us to clear up before we go, if we can...
Veg - You're back! And hell, yeah I can do classy...sometimes....
Nick - Wayne's dead and whatever did go on with A N Other is pretty much irrelevant. Asking would only open a can of worms amongst the living that's best left closed I think.
12 September 2011 at 23:21
Thanks for posting this, it was my vote too. Upsetting, of course. The hardest is things that mattered to the person. Ouch.
13 September 2011 at 07:51
Oh hon. The smell of someone on their clothes...
Yeah.
Well, as imperfect and a bastard that he might have been, he was YOUR bastard.
And actually, you're telling it like it is. Nothing wrong with that. You tell it girl!
13 September 2011 at 09:33
I am glad you published this- such a bundle of mixed emotions.
Eventually we'll have to think about clearing my mum's stuff. Her husband still living there is a good excuse not to think about it yet.
13 September 2011 at 13:35
But you do have to remember that it was YOU who was there in the end and for the last few months.
I'm glad that I took on cleaning out my brother's space---not sure how my elderly parents would have taken that much printed porn.
My fathers wardrobe had a distinctive sweet smell----I cleared his gear for Mum---did find a couple of love letters from Mum---things I didn't really want to think about.
Rationalised Mums gear when she moved to a retirement unit---and again when she moved to the hostel of a nursing home---luckily they would take most of what I left behind when she died.
Because I'm single, I am starting to rationalise my gear so that it's not a big job for whoever----luckily porn is electronic now
13 September 2011 at 17:53
that was beautifully written and very touching. Do we get to see the rest?
13 September 2011 at 19:28
Jenny - Thanks. Most of it probably mattered to the person, it's quite sad when you look at how easily you can dismantle a life.
Roses - Well he was a popular bastard that's for sure....
Speccy - I thought that time would make it easier. It probably doesn't really.
Clyde - Ha! Yes porn being electronic is grand - as long as your laptop isn't inherited by an old folks home without a new screensaver being added..
Then again maybe that doesn't matter either...
Curry Queen - Thank you! All the other options were different in tone mind you..but I might publish them too.
14 September 2011 at 09:30
#6 is the saddest, I think. Things that uniquely mattered to them and made them unique.
14 September 2011 at 12:01
I want to read the post about the blog-meet.
14 September 2011 at 23:00
LX - And it's all binned in the end.
Dave - The voting on the next post closed last Sunday..
15 September 2011 at 08:42
:-(
15 September 2011 at 18:35
I've never had to do this and yes, I'm even surprised who is tidy and who is not in the living. You must have experienced every emotion there is...
16 September 2011 at 19:00
Great post.....can we see the others too?
16 September 2011 at 22:19
It's a rather bittersweet post, as one might expect. I doubt that I'll have time for a good tidy-up before I pop off, so would always be tempted to leave some dirty dishes just to annoy my Mum. She might find Hint 8 useful then.
17 September 2011 at 07:54
ALW - Hopefully a job I won't have to repeat....
Libby - Thanks. And yes, I can see the attraction of posting something I wrote already.. might do that...
Mme DeF- Welcome back! We've missed you! And you know, the anger really does work!
18 September 2011 at 03:16
I don't have much to say, except that I found this touching and moving. I appreciate reading this.
19 September 2011 at 23:23
When we cleared out my Dad's things, we found his flight log from WW2. One notation said that the plane had crash-landed. We never heard that story. And in the back was a rather sexy photo of Veronica Lake - not a side of my father I'd ever seen.
We had 24 hours to clean out my Mum's room in the nursing home. A bit like tearing the bandage off quickly.
Thanks for posting this Macy - beautifully written and thoughtful.
I'll continue shredding my journals...
22 September 2011 at 20:59
Very practical and moving.
There's always some damned thing, isn't there?
23 September 2011 at 10:05
Hey honey. You've gone quiet again. Don't stop blogging.
27 September 2011 at 23:37
Hey, you! Blog! Eh?
(I think that is all Scottish.)