Wednesday, February 18, 2009


I've spent the last few days cleaning out Dad's appartment. I felt like a Vulture. Who wants what and what gets thrown away. I was doing ok... until we hit Dad's tools. Throwing some of them out felt so wrong. They were his life.


i know how you feel babygirl. it was the same for me. the stuff inside mostly meant little to anyone but you me and your brother. i was horrified that they simply chucked power tools in that WAS his life. give them at least to the fire relief for rebuilding, or to his colleagues, something meaningful. things were wrong on so many levels those two days, mostly the urgency to "erase" the physical, if you know what i mean

it's hard, it'll be hard for a long while but eventually we settle into an acceptance.

love always to you

By Blogger Cecile, at 3:45 PM  

This i wondered about, when i came back for the second day the bin was full and i had no idea what had gone in there. HIS TOOLS? THAT MAKES ME SOOO FUCKEN MAD! WHO MADE THAT CHOICE??? They were his life and were also the best way to remember who he was and what he did for his WHOLE LIFE. I thought we had all agreed that they would go to a tafe of something like that, THROWN OUT????? I'd Love to show whoever it was that made the decision what it would be like and do it to them and see how they feel about it happenning. Oh we dont know what to do with them, i guess they go in the bin. THATS INCREADIBLY WRONG ON TOO MANY LEVELS. The more i'm realising what went on in those 2 days the more i'm angry, and the more i'm wanting to take responsibility for the aftermath if that makes sence, just to be sure that dads requests are carried out and things are done PROPERLY INSTEAD OF IN SUCH A WHIMSICAL WAY.

By Anonymous Scott, at 10:35 PM  

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