It is now 73 days AD (After Dad). Things are moving very fast, we spotted a bungalow for Mum and due to her having extremely poor mobility with various ailments, have decided to take the plunge and 'go for it'. We all know that the received wisdom is to take things slowly after a bereavement and not to do anything too hastily but Mum's health needs must come first and her greatest fear is to end up in a home like dad did. So we are starting to streamline the things that MUST go with her on her relocation, (she's only moving three miles away, to be around the corner from her darling Great Grandson but let's be honest here, it would be as bad if she was moving to the other side of the world!) My Brother and I have faced the daunting task of sorting out Dad's Garage, his Den, his little world where magic happened and broken things got fixed. We took the plunge and opened the door, feeling not unlike Indiana Jones entering The Temple of Doom! Years ago his domaine was spick and span, everything had a place and everything was in its place. Now, after several months and years of Dad's deterioration, it is a tip, an Aladdin's Cave of bits and bobs, lathes, drills, circular saws, wood, metal and every tool under the sun, handles worn by his huge hands with their vice like grip. Most men have one tool box, dad had nine, not to mention the baskets of tools on shelves too numerous to mention. His pupils' nickname for him was 'Ironhand', very apt, as he was a teacher of Metalwork! Brought up during the war, he NEVER threw anything away that might be useful - he was the original recycler. Hanging on the wall is a wing from an old Morris Minor Traveller Shooting Brake Car - why - don't ask, it's owner is no longer with us to ask but it is a part of him just like everything else in there. Ropes from sailing dinghies he built long ago and sailed with my Brother and I, brought fond memories but in a large metal box we found treasure! Buried beneath a huge pile of stuff we found these steam traction engines, we sat and looked at them, my Brother and I, these models contained the essence of our Dad and bore his fingerprints. It was a special day, it was snowing outside and even though we had not looked forward to this task, we ended up enjoying rummaging around the dusty garage with the slight smell of oil in the air, in Dad's natural habitat, finding things our Dad had made and remembering the things he had done for us that we will never forget. We have more than a bit of Dad in us, as we both felt a natural affinity with the garage and it's contents and had both spent many hours over the years with Dad watching him work. Spending time in it has had a cathartic effect. His brother said, 'Your Dad's life is in that garage.' He was right and we found it. Hope you all find peace. Love Ruth x
An unusual way to grieve. : It is now 7... - PSP Association
An unusual way to grieve.
Lovely post Ruth, horder springs to mind like my dad, god love em!! X
Thank you! I greatly enjoyed your sharing. My dad was a WW2 veteran stationed outside of London. Prior he had gone thro the Depression. I learned my frugality, which has served me well, from both my parents.
Keeping you in my prayers.
Margarita from Los Angeles
Thank you very much Margarita, I was hoping that I could show that there are many ways to grieve and find comfort - we found it in a dusty garage of all places but it was perfect. Thinking of you too and wishing you peace. Ruth x
Wow! I agree... what a beautifully written post. I can feel your feelings from your wonderful descriptions, even tho I don't know you and didn't know him. His garage sounds somewhat like my husband's wood working hobby shop in our backyard. Every time I open the door I wind up closing it as quickly as I can. He is an awesome, detail oriented artist and wood worker and spent endless hours there creating and building beautiful things. I don't know what to do with the machines and wood and yes, the several tool boxes with zillions of nails and screws. He is still with us. I keep thinking that if the tables were turned I would be more depressed seeing my things get moved or sold. On the other hand, I feel that cleaning out what won't be used might in some way help me. I remain stuck.
I hope you find the same comfort that we did amongst his things but when and if you ever feel ready I’m sure that you will find someone who needs his tools and will appreciate them as he did and that will bring you comfort too, as then in a way he’s still there, in a fashion, with him helping others. Thinking of you. Ruth x
Lovely, Ruth... So glad you found joy in rediscovering your Dad through his things. I'm learning from you survivors that there is "good" grieving....
Best wishes and hugs to you for this difficult time.
Anne G.
Many thanks Anne, I hope everyone finds comfort in rediscovering their loved ones things, even a small item they can connect to can feel like treasure when it belonged to the right person. Take care of yourself, all the best. Ruth x
Thank you for your post. You took me back to my Dad's Man Caves. He had several as well. Although his would have been electrical based. Tiny bits of wire around, or his photography stuff. I never did get to help sort it, my stepmother did all that in her own time, which I fully undestand, but I would have like to have been there, like you say, for the memories.
Lots of love
Anne
Treasure the memories Anne, the pictures in your mind and even the memory of the smell of your Dad’s man cave is very evocative and will bring you comfort. Your dad will always be with you inside. Love Ruth x
Ah how beautiful you were able to spend that time with fond memories of your beloved Dad.
Hope the move for your Mum goes as smoothly as possible and she settles well.
Hugs
Thank you so much. Hopefully it will and she does. 🤞love Ruth x
What a lovely story you have moved me to tears. It’s so hard to bear to see this illness take our loved ones strength and character away from them. It is after they are gone we remember who they really were and it hurts You have been left with a treasure trove of memories to cherish X
Thank you Doreen, yes it is a horrible illness to be sure. Hopefully, everyone who is grieving will eventually reach a place of peace and remember their loved ones as they once were. Someone has commented elsewhere that we all start to grieve for them and the loss of their futures at the time of diagnosis and continue all through the course of their illness, grieving for what should have been. Best wishes Ruth x
Absolutely beautiful. And so true. I have a psp guy like that.
Thank you very much, I am finding comfort in putting my thoughts and experiences into words and hoping that it may strike a chord and help others going through similar times and feelings. Wishing you both comfort and peace on your journey together. Ruth xx
Did your PSP patient work with metals?
What does it look like?
Peace at Last
Really need advice.
