It is a task that no one likely relishes; sorting through shelves, drawers, cabinets, and closets of a loved one who has ‘left the building.’ I did it for my mother-in-law, both parents, my husband and now my soul-friend-kindred-spirit-sister Ondreah. She passed a week ago today of metastatic breast cancer and her family had done the bulk of the work of taking decades worth of belongings, organizing them and stashing them in boxes and bags. My friend had beautiful clothes, some of which her sister encouraged me to take home. Our style is the same; colorful and flowing. She also had a magnificent stone Buddha statue that now sits in my front hallway. Weighing at least 50 pounds, I carried it to and from the car by hugging it, praying that it didn’t slip from my grasp and come crashing down. Like me, she played hand percussion and a djembe has joined the other drums in my living room and will be used with rhythm and respect. Books, CDs, and DVDs, that reflect her diverse interests (yoga, meditation, Native American spirituality, Hawaii, sexuality) along with furniture, wall hangings and the rest of her clothes will go to good use by being donated. Boxes of various types of herbal teas are now lined up on my kitchen counter and bottles of essential oils will enhance my wellbeing.
As Liz and I packed, we spoke of Ondreah who had a wonderfully wicked sense of humor, an unmatched vibrancy, and zest for life wrapped with a desire to do good. She was a career nurse who worked primarily in home care. I shared stories of the sister she had not experienced and she told me about the girl and woman she was before the two of us crossed paths, introduced by a mutual friend more than 10 years ago. We laughed and cried and rolled our eyes.
It occurred to me that the objects we possess carry the essence of the owner. As I was folding and packing, I treated them with reverence since they are far more than cloth and rock, wood and leather. Although they are comprised of elements, Ondreah herself was like an elemental; with fairy-like energy that permeated her belongings. It felt odd to be there without her physical presence, but I smiled at the memory of times we had in her home. The laughter and tears over the years permeated the walls as surely as paint coated them.
In the midst of all of this, a business idea started blossoming. I know that there are people who hire themselves out to pack houses and move things to another location. Not so sure if there is a service in which someone assists family and friends in packing as they are companioning them through the process, asking them to talk about the person who died, and about the objects themselves. Meaning and memory intertwined.
Now that I am home, I have blessed these objects, putting them in their new places and expressed gratitude for my friend and the gift that she has been and will continue to be, as the items that once decorated her home, now grace mine.
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