here today...

My grandfather is in the process of getting his home ready to be put on the market within the next week or two. It has been his home for the last 20years, 12 of which he shared with my grandmother. Over the last couple of weeks we have been helping him weed, prune and clear out an overgrown garden and clean/sort his house. It was a huge job (and still not finished) which would not have happened without my mum's many hours of hard labour.

It has been a bit strange going through this process. It has happened rather rapidly. Granpa decided to look at retirement villages one day and put a deposit on a place that same day! It has been an emotional journey for my mum, aunt and uncle as they say goodbye to the last place their mother lived, as they sort and throw much of her beloved nick nacks and say goodbye to the place that still has so much of her presence in the pink and bold decor. In some ways, it is like saying goodbye to her all over again.

It has been strange watching the stress and anxiety levels rise in my granpa as he feels overwhelmed at the tasks ahead and the muddle in his head in trying to make sense of it all. And again, the emotional ties with the home that he shared with his wife for many years.

It has been strange as a grandchild to walk around the backyard remembering the swimming races we had in the pool, the 'red wine' we used to make out of pink bouganvillea flowers, the fairy bread that Granma would sneak us cause Granpa didn't like it getting in his carpet, the sleepovers we had with friends at Granmas, and the sausages and toast for breakfast.

Objects, smells, places play such an important role in who we are. Our memories are tied to these. How often we forget something until we see a certain place, smell that certain fragrance or hold that certain object. No wonder it is so hard to say goodbye. It is inevitable that the goodbye is not just to that 'house' but to the memories attached. Some will carry on with us. But some will fade with the passing of time.

Experiences like this produce a funny tension. At one level, you see the ludicrous nature of 'stuff'. The endless accummulation of things which only get piled up to send to vinnies. It gives you a clearer picture of the fruitless endeavour of buying, collecting and more buying. Yet, at the end of it all, not all of it is worthless. Not all of it can be sent to vinnies. Some stuff might be cheap and tacky to one person, yet be of much value to another. It represents something of much more worth than what the object itself is.

How do you know if you are holding on too tight? What would happen if all these things gave way? Could your heart cope? Or would it fail?

Teach us to number our days,

That we might gain a heart of wisdom.

Grass withers, flowers will fade,

But the word of the Lord stands forever.

(Psalm 90:12; Isaiah 40:8)