Treasures

The Dog was given a rest day today after her exertions yesterday. Not that she seemed to need it. No sign of the stiffness and soreness that she’d been suffering from after being run hard recently. But it did give me a chance at sorting through some more of the boxes and packets that I’d retrieved on my last visit to Mum’s house.

Obviously, I didn’t find what I was looking for. I didn’t find anything much of any use at all. Instead, I found treasures.

There were even more greetings cards. Congratulations on Mum and Dad’s 40th wedding anniversary, congratulations on Dad’s retirement, a couple with sympathy on the death of one of Dad’s beloved dogs and a whole lot more with sympathy on the death of Dad himself.

Then there were real treasures. Dad’s first school report. ‘Excellent’ with numbers. ‘Excellent’ with what they called ‘Handwork’ too. He never showed any sign of that later in life I can assure you. There is a story that has gone down in family mythology of the time when he made a guard to go over the garden pond to stop the grandchildren from falling in. Two of his grandsons helped install the contraption. He was quite pleased with his Handwork.

“It’s good and strong. You can stand on it if you like.” he said to them.

“Er, did you make it Grandad?”

“Yes!”

“Um, no thanks then.”

Even at that tender age they were aware of his reputation for making things that fell apart.

More treasures. Cards congratulating Mum and Dad on their wedding and a copy of the parish magazine which published the event.

More treasures. The letters I’d written home during my first weeks at university when I was a bit lost and lonely and two copies of the booklet given to attendees at my graduation ceremony.

More treasures. Everything from my wedding to Lesley. Order of service, every receipt from the hotel, the details of Dad’s suit hire, the directions and maps that Lesley had prepared for them. Everything.

Everything was pristine. But then it would be as nothing saw the light of day once Mum had bagged it up and tucked it away for safe keeping never to be looked at again.

I thought I was getting close to finding something useful when I started finding manuals and receipts for household items. I soon realised that what I was finding wasn’t recent. The kitchen appliances that I found manuals for were as much as 40 years old and the machines themselves were long gone.

Had Mum had a cull of her paperwork after her dementia had started creeping up on her? Had she kept the old stuff that she could remember and destroyed the recent things that she didn’t recognise?

Is that why we can’t find her will?

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. April 2025.