To Grandmother's House We Go is the new awesome

I was in Southern California last week helping to clean out my Grandmother's house - the house that she has lived in and that has remained unchanged for the past 40+ years, and that I have been visiting since I was born. It was a move to an assisted living home rather than a funeral that obliged the task, so it wasn't as somber as cleaning out a house could be, but there was certainly still a sense of mourning as I had to go through all the things that my Grammy has collected and loved and treasured for her whole life, and in the space of three days decide what got to be thrown out and what we had room to keep.

However, as you might imagine, there were all sorts of things behind cabinets and other closed doors that a Granddaughter wouldn't usually have reason to find under normal circumstances.

The obligatory handgun in the sash drawer:

The secret stash of booze in the wrapping paper closet:

And the book called Boners on the top shelf of a bunch of old books (actually printed in 1931 and illustrated by Dr.Seuss)


Best of all, though, were the personal items. The love letters that my Grandfather had written her. Old highschool yearbooks. Family portraits. Look at some of these gems:

My Grammy and my Grandpa, back when they were first married. (Check out how good my grandfather looks in a uniform!)
Zowie.
This one of my mother as a little girl making a happy face really killed me. You would be amazed at how many photos she was scowling in. Or maybe you wouldn't. My mom never has much liked getting her photo taken.

See?

My mom might kill me for putting this one up:

But I can make it up to her by putting up one of my own. Looks like nerdy glasses are hereditary.

My parent's wedding:

And of course, lots of baby photos:




I know it was hard for my Grammy to know that we were going through her possessions, and that the way that she has been accustomed to living independently for the past 96 years was changing rather dramatically. But I think it made her happy to know that we found things in her house to remind us of her, and that so many of the things that she had loved were going to stay with people that had loved her and appreciated her beautiful things.

Don't worry, Grammy. This is what I had to take my portion home in (and I could have used a bigger one to hold all the memories):