A dusty blanket

I am not very domestic. This is certainly an issue for a single father of two teenagers. My kids are no different than most – cleaning up is something they would rather not do. The fact that I’m not a clean freak doesn’t help matters any.

In any case, I occasionally feel the bug, and do things like dust, and sweep, and mop. I’ve been doing that over the last couple of days, and as I’ve worked in the family room, I’ve avoided one box sitting in the corner. The last box my dad brought me about a month ago. The box from my mom.

My mom passed away many years ago – while I was living in Hawaii. She was very ill when we got orders to move to Hawaii (Military family), and we could have changed the orders, and stayed around for my mom. She wouldn’t hear of it. First, she knew we would be passing up orders to live in Hawaii – and that those opportunities don’t come around often. Second, she knew that me being here wouldn’t change the outcome in any way.

We were in Hawaii for about 6 weeks when we made the long flight back for a final farewell to my mother.

So here sat this last box. It’s been sitting in the corner here for quite some time. I’ve not even acknowledged it being there most of the time. I wasn’t ready to open it.

Finally tonight, I opened the box. I wasn’t really surprised by what I found – it contained what I thought it would. There was no note, but I knew why each of these items were packed for me. My mom didn’t need to leave a note.

There was the first quilt my mother made for my son (her first grandchild). There was a plain-looking blanket that my mother knew I loved – I asked for it every time I visited my parents. There were some other small items, like a couple of my mom’s favorite cocktail glasses. I imagine she knew I would not only appreciate them, but use them. Tonight I am drinking an eggnog (with just a wee bit of Jim Beam in it) from one of those glasses.

There was nothing of real value in the box, but everything in the box was important to me.

I wonder what things my children will cherish? Will they be simple things like an old blanket or chipped cocktail glasses? Or will they be more interested in IRA’s and safety box contents?

If I do my job right they would much rather have the dusty blanket.



  1. Deannie – yeppers!

  2. I have things that are from my Mom’s house that mean more to me than can be expressed verbally.

    How neat to have something that she packed for YOU. That means as much as the items themselves, no?

  3. Rck and Kate – thanks. I know you understand my post well.

    When will you be back in San Antonio? I enjoyed our last visit!


  4. I still have that old blue windbreaker she wore to work for years. She gave it to me one day after she retired and believe it or not, I treasure that old wore-out thing. My daughter Alyssa still wears it occasionally. But it will always be the memories she gave us that I will always hold close. With the way most kids are raised these days, “where’s the will and I want the car!” But your right Rob, I believe your kids will want the ‘dusty blanket’. I know that’s what my kids would want. But that might be because they’ve cleaned me out of everything else.
    Have a Safe and Happy New Year Big Bro!! Love YA!

  5. In the end, it’s the personal things that mean the most to those that are left behind. True, the IRA will help in the beginning but that won’t give the kids a smile like your very witty sense of humor or having that embarassing photo of you and you know there are a few out there. Memories from physical things can do so much more than the dollar bill.