today we went to my darling sister's flat to get some things to take away. her personal things; her writings and stuff. i fell out briefly with my sister when i said not to organise them there; but to keep them as she left them; i made the dominating decision that my home was the place for all these things to live for now until we all decide what to do with them.
some years ago maybe three, my sister who is now departed came to my house to help me organise and de clutter. i have this weird retrospective memory that even though she was well in that she was not diagnosed, i think she may have been ill. i remember being so honoured to have her help me. she helped me shift a load of shit. clothes, books shit shit shit and the only stuff which still remains unsorted to this day is the paper memory stuff which we put upstairs on the landing on shelves in boxes and in a cupboard; piles and piles of pictures, c d s, memories; diary's ; kids stuff. this evening i have returned to that de cluttering experience i had in my house with my sister and i have followed her advice; i have put each thing in each persons box and i have thrown away things to be thrown away; i have made space for her beautiful things that will be there until others come to sort them more. because, she is not coming back.
today on bringing back her things i have had to return to that place. even recently i told her that i had still not sorted this stuff after all this time. little did i know when she came round that day that it would be after her sweet demise that i would return there. my sister was a writer through and through. she did not stop. she is funny, hilarious and true and i love her so much. i am sad that i sort of fell out with my other sister. i mean who the fuck am i to take her things. but i don't know why. what can i say? i am afraid we will fall out forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment