“珍愛(ài)”有所歸

After 56 years in the same house， my mother was selling to move into an apartment in an 1）assisted-living facility.

My father had died five years earlier and the house was becoming a burden. Mom had broken her hip the previous spring and could no longer handle the stairs， the garden or the daily maintenance that is required of a homeowner.

The list on the refrigerator of service people—furnace repairman， gardener， appliance service man—rivalled her list of doctors and health-care providers.

Her biggest concern was not selling the house， but how to 2）dispose of a lifetime of treasures collected over 60 years of marriage and travel.

She could not take them all with her and she could not leave them behind. She did not want to donate them to a charitable organization and she did not want to sell them at a garage sale for strangers to purchase for a fraction of their value. Disposing of her cherished possessions became a cause of stress and sleepless nights.

Always resourceful， my 91-year-old mother devised a course of action. She decided to host a tea and gift party. She invited her children， grandchildren， brothers， sisters， nieces and nephews. She served party sandwiches， cakes， teas and juice boxes for the younger generation.

When we got to her house， all her treasures were laid out on display. There were linen tablecloths， 3）sterling silver dishes， servers of every shape and size， crystal bowls， vases and pieces of unknown origin or purpose.

There were sculptures and artworks collected from all over the world， oil paintings and watercolours. There were kitchen and cooking 4）utensils， including an original 5）Mixmaster that my mother had received as a wedding gift in 1946.

Some of the items had been brought by my mother’s mother from Romania when she immigrated in the late 1890s.

And there were books： cookbooks， novels， histories， classics and so much more. My father was an eclectic reader and had a vast library.

Everyone was told to tour the house and take what they wanted. One of my cousins had always coveted a silver serving platter but felt badly taking it. I told him to bring it home， enjoy it and invite my mother over for dinner， serving her with the platter.

Everyone had a ball， but the most laughter and tears came over the photographs. My mother had sorted a lifetime of family photos into two dozen dollar-store plastic trays. Everyone chose the pictures that held the most significance for them. There was my uncle’s first wedding （which came as a surprise to the children of his second marriage， who didn’t know he had been divorced）. There were holidays and family gatherings and pets long dead.

We 6）hooted over the fashions and hairstyles. And we couldn’t believe what beauties some of our older relatives were in their youth. It’s hard to imagine the aunt with grey hair， 1 teeth and a walker as a babe with a Marilyn Monroe figure in a two-piece bathing suit.

There were pictures of my dad and my uncles in their Second World War uniforms， looking so young and handsome. And there was a group photo of servicemen. My mother cried as she put names to the faces and recalled the boys who never came back.

We called to mind family members and friends who had passed away. My cousins and I laughed until we cried as we recounted many “remember when”stories.

It was an incredible afternoon. No one wanted to leave the warmth of a house that had been the centre of so many happy gatherings and occasions. At dusk the food was gone， the sun was setting and we were still sitting around chatting and reminiscing.

I was so proud of my mother. Many people her age can’t let go of the past or their material possessions. That day， everyone took home something of great value—fond memories of Aunty Mary and a 7）tangible reminder of her love and generosity.

My mother was thrilled with the whole event. Her beloved treasures will live on in the family for generations to come. She was also able to offer a lesson on the value of giving and sharing.

There was still a lot of stuff to pack up and dispose of before the big move. We had a contents sale that didn’t make much money， but did reduce the clutter. What was left unsold we donated to an organization that helps new immigrants get settled.

Mom is now settled in her retirement home. When one of her many nieces and nephews come to visit， they share stories of how lovely her things look in their homes and how much they enjoy having them. This was truly a meaningful gift.

在同一所房子里度過(guò)了56年時(shí)光后，我的母親打算把房子賣(mài)掉，然后搬進(jìn)一間提供生活助理服務(wù)的公寓里。

我的父親在五年前去世了，而這所房子就成了一個(gè)負(fù)擔(dān)。母親在剛過(guò)的那個(gè)春天摔傷了臀部，無(wú)法再打理樓梯、花園，或者進(jìn)行每個(gè)屋主該做的日常保養(yǎng)。

冰箱上貼著的服務(wù)人員名單——鍋爐維修工、花匠、電器服務(wù)員，與她那張列著多名醫(yī)生和保健員的名單“相互輝映”。

她最大的擔(dān)憂(yōu)不是賣(mài)房子，而是如何清理掉在超過(guò)六十年的婚姻和旅行中積攢起來(lái)的一生的珍品。

她無(wú)法隨身帶走所有的物品，也舍不得將其丟下不管。她不想將這些東西捐給慈善機(jī)構(gòu)，也不想在車(chē)庫(kù)拍賣(mài)會(huì)上以很小一部分的價(jià)值將它們賣(mài)給陌生人。處置她那些珍寶成了引發(fā)壓力和失眠的源頭。

母親總是那么的足智多謀，91歲的她想出了一個(gè)行動(dòng)方案。她決定舉行一個(gè)茶點(diǎn)與禮品派對(duì)。她邀請(qǐng)了她的子女、孫輩、兄弟、姐妹、侄輩和甥輩。她為年輕一代準(zhǔn)備了派對(duì)三文治、蛋糕、茶水和果汁。

當(dāng)我們?nèi)サ剿視r(shí)，她所有的珍品都已經(jīng)擺出來(lái)了。有亞麻桌布、純銀碟子、各種形狀和大小的托盤(pán)、水晶碗、花瓶和各種不明來(lái)源和用途的器件。

有搜集自全世界的雕塑和藝術(shù)作品，有油畫(huà)和水彩畫(huà)。還有廚房和烹飪用具，包括一臺(tái)原版的“混合霸王”萬(wàn)能攪拌器，那是母親1946年時(shí)收到的結(jié)婚禮物。

有些東西是我外婆在19世紀(jì)90年代后期移民時(shí)從羅馬尼亞帶來(lái)的。

還有一些圖書(shū)：烹飪書(shū)、小說(shuō)、歷史書(shū)、名著等等，多不勝數(shù)。……