My aunt, God rest her soul, lived in a one bedroom apartment in Peabody. I think the apartment was rent control, which is where poor people lived before we had Section 8 housing. She lived on a small teacher’s pension most of which she spent on cartons of Benson & Hedges (“You’ve come a long way, baby”, since she had made it from Somerville to Peabody she actually had come a long way). In the 1980′s she ran up $25,000 in credit card debt with absolutely no ability to pay it back. She was way ahead of her time. When she died I remember someone in my family saying, “get over there before your cousins do”. I also remember thinking, “why?”. Kids may not know about the finer things in life but they know crap when they see it. I wondered if my Aunt Mary was so rich why was all of her furniture made of particle board? (She had particle board furniture twenty years before it was made popular by Ikea.) My Father and I rushed over and most of the furniture fell apart while we were moving it (again much like Ikea).
The other things that happen when family members pass away is heirs confuse expensive with valuable. My late, great Aunt Margaret actually had a couple of silver dollars to rub together. When she died, we did try and get there before my cousins. Someone said, “look she has a nice hospital bed”. Hospital beds are expensive but they are not of much value unless you are either dying or in the hospital. We moved the bed which was heavy and had wires everywhere. Since no one in my family was actually in need of a hospital bed we donated it to the church. This necessitated moving the “expensive but of no real value” bed twice.
When the LOL (lovely old lady) moved in with me three years ago she stored some of her “priceless family heirlooms” down on the Cape. Generally speaking if you go three years without missing something, much less opening the box in which it is stored I would feel comfortable saying it’s trash. Once again I didn’t realize how wrong I could be. I was instructed in no uncertain terms to drive the 100 miles round trip on a Friday night and retrieve the boxes of priceless treasures. In an effort to make my job a little easier I opened some of the boxes and sifted through the contents. I then called and asked if we needed the twenty, clear flower vases that looked exactly like the ten, clear flower vases presently in our house? Likewise did we need the eight wine glasses to go with the sixteen wine glasses that we already have notwithstanding neither of us drink at all, much less wine. Reminding her that Kodak recently went out of business I also asked if we need the box of 2,000 or so photos. The answer was of course, “Yes, clear, flower vases are in high demand, you never know when we might have 24 wine drinkers over at the same time,” and “I am going to scan the photos to the computer.”
I wonder how many people die before they get the chance to scan their still photos onto the computer. Then again probably not as many who die of boredom scanning pictures that they previously hadn’t felt the need to look at in at least ten years.
KOKO

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