Saturday, April 16, 2011

The upstairs hall closet has it's guts spewed on the floor, preventing entry into two bedrooms, waiting for me to decide what gets tossed. goes to charity or kept. It's a tough discussion. One item I want to keep is a handmade kaleidoscope, given to me by a man a long time ago that my grandfather once took me and my sister to visit. She got one as well, but I can't remember if hers had the same red wall paper on wrapped around the outside as mine or if it was different. I wonder if she still has hers. I have treasured mine. My grandfather was so proud of us girls that he use to take us on his visits to his patients. He was a small town doctor who made house calls. Once such visit was to a man who made wooden toys, hence the kaleidoscope. Another visit was to a woman who was home bound. We had to drive farther than usual and through a wooded area. I don't remember seeing a car around the home. She was a large woman. Grandfather gave her a shot of something, delivered some meds, took her blood pressure and then sat down to talk with her. There was a smell in the air. A smell I now call death. I have smelled that smell three times in my life (actually 4 - but I can't be sure about the third time. If it was a smell or just a feeling - so I am going to discounted as just a feeling). That time with the large woman who was home bound. Then again when I visited a neighbor of my grandparents. We use to visit them ever so often crossing PeePa's yard and ending up in their back yard. I can't remember their names, but they were kind to us and had cookies (such the memories of a child "they had cookies" funny now). On our last visit the husband gave me a elephant with ivory tusks, which I still have somewhere - waiting to be decided on. I don't know what was given to my sister, Tracy, but it was something of the same. I smelled death on that day too. Less than a month later the wife had died in a car accident. The seat beat caused internal bleeding. She died in hospital (as they use to say back then, maybe still do). The last time was I smelled death was a weekend in June. The whole family was gathering at my parents house to celebrate 3 birthdays, Father's day, an anniversary and an upcoming birth (my sister's first child, Emilie). My son, husband and I had just arrived at the home and were entering via the back door. The minute we entered the back door I turned to my son and said " You smell that? That's old people smell." I now know that was death. The house doesn't have that smell any more. My father died less than a week later. The red kaleidoscope is fulled with dust now. I wonder if I can clean it out with a vacuum clearer or a hair dryer (I don't own a hair dryer). I really don't want to loss it. It provides so many memories and one leads to another. Such a small thing. And why the hell won't this post allow for paragraphs???
Woke up this morning hugging my husband for warmth.