The job was taking much longer than I anticipated and was not going well. I wanted to finished the job on time, but I needed Cora’s help. Unfortunately for my schedule, the job provoked a lifetime of memories to come flooding back to her. “All of these memories,” I thought to myself, “are distracting her from the task at-hand.” The job of cleaning out her basement was causing Cora to reminiscence both silently to herself and out loud to me. There was a lifetime of memories she had accumulated – memories of her husband, raising her children, and as a young school teacher. She had lived in the same house for most of her adult life. She is 94 now and her husband died many years ago, her children are grown and aging themselves, and she retired from teaching school at a young age. But, she remembered it all as if it were yesterday. She wanted to tell me about it, too, which slowed down the job we had to do. I was focused on the job of cleaning out the junk she stored in her basement. I had a timetable I felt I needed to keep if I was to finish this job for Cora and still meet other demands of my time that day. I wanted to work fast. Cora had other ideas, and I admit it frustrated me at first. Slowly I began to realize that the “junk” that had accumulated in her basement was more than junk to her. As she told me the significance of nearly every item we removed from her basement, I began to realize that her memories were the sum of her life. This old “junk” to me was invaluable to her because it allowed her to reminiscence and, for a few moments even, to be young again. She was married for a long time to the same man, unusual in today’s age. They raised a small family together, built onto their home as their family grew. They welcomed their grandchildren into their home, then their great grandchildren as the years passed. When her husband died some years ago, Cora continued living in the same house alone, but not in solitude. I don’t know any of her children, but if a child is a reflection of the parents, Cora’s children must be good people. Cora couldn’t tell me exactly how many great grandchildren she has, she gets a little confused on their number and names, but she loves them all. They don’t visit as much as they used to, but Cora admitted that their high-energy and the extra noise level they bring bothers her a little now a days. She does enjoy their visits, however, when they are short, sweet, and occasional. Eventually, we agreed to throw out some of the items from her basement. We cleaned and returned the items that she held dear, some of them useful to her but most just full of memories she wanted to hold onto for just a bit longer. “That’s okay,” I thought to myself later that day, “because she’s led a wonderful life and deserves to be proud of it.” ### |
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