I've put off this topic long enough. It's time to meet it head-on with some hard-core musings. Subject #33 is "things passed down to me." Right away you're thinking, oh, inheritances! I wish. Where do we get off describing it as stuff handed DOWN anyway? That implies it came from above, and honestly, most of the stuff I've received has been a lateral move. Meaning the people aren't dead yet. The implication is they will die some day and you might as well take it now. The only thing (and by thing I mean a physical object) I've actually inherited so far is a desk, built by my grandfather and willed to me by my Uncle Ron. I believe he wanted me to have it, but at the same time, I remember agreeing to take it from the items available in his basement. It was sort of heavy and light pine. My grandpa hinged the top so you can actually remove it and fold it for easy transport. I sanded it and re-stained it a dark cherry, but it still has all the original hardware. I'm glad I have it because it reminds me of two people I loved dearly who are now on the other side. But it's hard to think of it as "passed down" considering it was brought up from a basement and taken further up into our loft (three flights). It's probably now closer to Ron than it is to me most days. I don't like to think about anybody dying, let alone what happens to their stuff afterwards. But my parents have been down-sizing a lot lately, even though I believe they are hundreds of years from passing. I don't know why they feel compelled to get rid of all their stuff now other than they're tired of staring at it or dusting it. For those reasons, I too might consider acting on my will while I'm still living. It's no fun to be willed something that doesn't exist anymore after the person passes. "Um, it says here you would have gotten the coin collection if he hadn't sold it on eBay because he didn't want to keep hanging onto it just for you until he died." If you hand stuff out while you're alive, you can see how much people appreciate it. My mom distributed her Christmas decorations cleverly at our last Christmas gathering. When I say last, I mean most recent. Not the last one forever and ever! But of course, the last one featuring my mom's Christmas decorations. She numbered them all with tags and then had an impromptu drawing. I drew numbers 3, 14 and 21. I got the wooden figurine ornaments, a small wreath and a stuffed snowman. I also voluntarily claimed three ceramic angels and a bubble blowing elephant. I'm sure I melted at the time and laid claim to a few more items that will emerge forevermore in my house at Christmas because I am too sentimental. I mean, I see a rubber Christmas tree with arms and legs and I just can't bear to let the little fella go. He matches the rubber reindeer on ice skates!! My mom is very practical. I imagined her thinking in her thick German accent, "Vee no longer need zees tings. Und aus! Macht schnell!"
I don't walk around expecting to inherit anything, really, but I am understandably surprised when stuff comes my way and I can actually call and thank the person. Maybe it's my German heritage. We don't like to keep stuff around too long. Just taking up space like that. Move it through! Give it to someone who can still use it. My aunts are over 70 and in recent years I have received a couple of treasures from them that have "me" written all over them. One is a giant blue vase that's almost as wide as it is tall that resembles a sea shell of sorts. This comes from Aunt Pat, my dear Godmother. The other is a t-shirt of a very fat expressionless cat that says "I Am Smiling." The t-shirt is framed. This comes from Aunt Gisela, from whom I may have inherited my sense of humor. I am content with these items and deeply appreciative. I find meaning in them and my sentimental side cringes when others upon first sight say, "Where the hell did you get that?!" I mean, hey, they're from my people for God's sake. Back off. I feel special. They thought of me! Never mind that weeks later, through the grapevine and a series of overheard remarks I learn that my sister once again scored the china. Aunt Gisela sent her china home with my parents to give to Tess. In the same car as my I Am Smiling framed t-shirt. My sister is hoarding china. Maybe through no fault of her own, but every time I turn around, whole sets of china are making their way to my sister either before death or after death or for all I know in someone's very last breath. "Please give my china....to.....Tessie....." Seconds later, "Please give....my fuzzy dice....to.....Susie..." Her basement has to be filled to the brim with china. She could have a dinner party
for China. But I'm not complaining. At least I don't have to worry about giving it all away some day. If I were her I'd tag it all and hold a drawing next Thanksgiving...
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