I’m hitting the road in a little bit to head back home to Miami. I’ve spent this weekend poking through the basement and the attic and in-between at my parents’ house to decide what to take back with me in August. Along with some pieces of furniture from childhood and a collection of books from grandparents and the family library, I’ve set aside some little things that mean something to me.
This is a bittersweet kind of thing. My parents are glad to be scaling back their house and possessions in anticipation of being in a place where they don’t have to worry about things like yard work and snow shoveling, and they have also gotten to the stage where they are happy to be looking forward, not back.
For the kids, we’ve each had the chance to look through what they want to share with us, putting dibs on things we want to add to our own homes and carry on the family memories: the music box from my father’s family, the collection of books that my mom’s mother bought when she was teaching herself about the finer things in life in the 1920’s, and the many, many photographs of my ancestors, going back to the 1890’s. It’s amazing to see how much we look like them.
I’ll be back in August to pack it all up and take them to their new home… again another road trip for them in their long life.