Sunday

We did our best to get The Dog out early before the day got ridiculously hot. Every day now involves a complex analysis of which location will be a stimulating but not overstimulating environment so she doesn’t get bored and spend the walk begging for treats or over-exert herself and over-heat while not being too busy with a risk of an unfortunate encounter with another dog. We opted for The Copse. She’d be in shade most of the time and there was enough of a stream for her to get a drink and have a wallow. She tired quickly though and after an hour headed back to the car park. Only 3,000 steps for us rather than the normal 5,000. Considering how fast it was getting hotter, we didn’t argue.

Now our house is getting cleared of all the boxes of ‘artefacts’ from our parents’ houses I had, at long last, got some physical and mental space to work in.

Lesley has been me reminding gently on a regular basis that we need to do something about getting rid of the last bits of Mum’s clothing. On the first pass we’d extracted everything that was worn out, really dated or in a size that nobody in the family would get close to. That much was obvious. What stood out, though, was how much of Mum’s stuff was actually OK. My guess was that they were mostly gifts. Mum had either put them aside ‘for best’ and never wore them or didn’t really like them and didn’t say so so as not to offend in the full knowledge that not saying anything would mean she got the same thing next year.

At the outset, Lesley had had a great idea.

“What if we kept back the things that anyone who wants something of your Mum’s can have as a keepsake?”

“That’s a nice idea. I’ll take some photos and share them on WhatsApp.”

That was weeks ago. We’ve been stepping round and over this stuff for ages. But today I had room to lay them out and demonstrate my product photography skills.

I don’t think Mum ever saw her clothes as being heirloom standard. Apart from her wedding dress they aren’t. But some of them are pretty decent in their own right. She liked a good shawl and two or three of them would look OK with, say, a denim jacket. I thought someone might think that too.

It’s not that Mum didn’t get the concept of an heirloom. She did. She had tons of old china and when Dad died she spent an exorbitant sum on a sideboard to keep it all in. Eldest Sister had helped her sort through what she’d kept.

“Are you sure you want to keep all this Mum?”

“Yes! Why?”

“Wouldn’t it be a good idea to give it away now? That way you can see how happy people are to get it rather than leave it until after you’ve gone.”

“No. I’ll keep it here.”

“Well why don’t I just take the things you’re leaving me then?”

“Alright then.”

Several boxes went over several visits.

“‘Ere! You’re not just taking this stuff to the tip are you!?”

“No Mum! Of course not!”

[Insert Pinocchio emoji here]

One of the reasons I’d left taking photos of the items we’d kept back so long was that I’d known that it wasn’t going to be a quick job.

I was right. It wasn’t.

But the photos got taken and cropped and shared.

The result? A round of “Thanks but No Thanks.” replies.

Bloody hell.

Author’s Note

My Mum was in a nursing home in the Thames Valley for a year and a half until she passed away in December 2024. My Father-in-law went into the same home the following January. But Lesley’s sister didn’t approve and made the situation so awkward that he had to be moved. He passed away in March 2025. Names and locations have been changed or hidden to protect the identities of those involved.

Image Credit

Original Image by Nick Gilmore. June 2025.