Frozen in time
Whirlwind. That’s the only word I could think of as I sat down on my dad’s couch after today. It didn’t help that I had trouble falling to sleep last night and woke up far too early; six AM should only be seen by the birds.
My sister, two cousins, and myself made what would be one of the last few trips to my Aunt and Oma’s condo today.
I arrived first (punctuality is a curse), and the owner of the building graciously let me in with our babysitter. Since the Will is in probate, we technically should not be allowed in, but with supervision, they allowed us to go and do “inventory.” I rounded the corner to the hall that used to find my Oma bursting at the seams to greet me when I came to visit. The door didn’t open this time; there was no one to greet me today. Instead I walked into a room where time stood still. Aside from the pictures my family had already taken off the walls, you would never know that two people who had been in my life last Christmas were both no longer there.
I peered out back to the porch that had once housed all the plants and flowers my Oma and Aunt had so lovingly cared for, only to find it barren; aside from the patio furniture we used to sit and pass afternoon hours on.
It wasn’t until I moved to the bedrooms and saw the cards on the counter from Christmas, the notes left to remind about that months bills, the slippers on the floor, and all the pictures, that the tears began to fall. Knowing the babysitter was in the other room, I didn’t want to subject her to my sorrow, so choking back the rest of my emotion I began the hunt for the heirlooms my Oma had kept for me that belonged to my mom; things that we would want to keep as a family and eventually disperse amongst the remaining four grandchildren/nieces.
Overwhelming. Joined by my cousins and sister, we spent the next few hours sorting through the lives our family members had left behind.
I couldn’t help but think, as I sifted through the condo full of memories, how quickly time passes. How we can not anticipate this day, or ever truly prepare for it. Yet, it was so clear what my family lived for, as the apartment was full of verses, bibles, and frame after frame of people they loved. My family was so precious, will always be so precious, to me.
What would you want someone to find of yours?