Imagine no possessions...
Told daughter "I must have sang that song one too many times," Could not carry what was left of my worldly things around in a backpack. My idea that I could travel by skates, what I called "my most prized possession," did not work. The weight of backpack and tote bag put me off balance. I took one last skate, went to sell them back to the place where I bought them.
Guy said they no longer buy used skates; they rented them, so I said he could keep them; must have felt sorry for me, gave me $10.00. Do not know if I literally cried, but it was very sad to me to give them up.
As I told my sister, "that is not the point", when she repeated for the zillionth time "roads change the maps are out dated."
My mother asked me to keep the maps; maybe Rocco will want them when I die. I asked him, back then, if he did, he said "yes." When sister started throwing away things from that file cabinet (rather than organizing her own files, strewn about on a bedroom floor," the maps were first to go. Even Rocco's name was figuratively on them ~ I had specifically told her not to dump them; Rocco wanted them.
One person's junk is another's treasure.
Now that Mom is gone, maybe Rocco would have decided he no longer wanted them and tossed them into the recycle bin. Dorothy did not give him that choice.
Dorothy did not give me a chance to claim our childhood mixing bowl. Dented, she said. That dent was part of its charm. I have never found a metal mixing bowl like that one, sloped sides. Memories attached to it.
Dorothy did not give anyone a chance to claim Corning Ware, nor donate excess glass lids to Goodwill ~ I have often found lids like that at a Salvation Army type store. No big deal, she threw them away. The Corning Ware, however, she took to the deli (where she works.) I did not tell her I would have taken Corning Ware.
20 years ago I did not know that I would outlive my mother. I did not know that I would have a roof over my head. I doubt I would have put my name on Corning Ware, paper scotch taped on something going into an oven?
I could not have foreseen tall pedestal mugs would not be used and washed, so would not have entered my mind to, again, scotch tape a piece of paper on them.
I especially could not foresee anyone throwing all my father's and mother's books. If I had, I might have taped my name in some of them. Yet, when I left Mom's after spending 6-months cleaning out her house to get my old job back in California, I did not have an apartment lined up, nor money to rent one.
The Manager welcomed me back, but said she would leave final decision to Department Supervisor. Dept. Supervisor did not return phone calls or e-mail messages. Hello living on the streets.
I applied for jobs, the low-paying kind. No address, an issue, used my nephew's in El Segundo; an interviewer asked about the commute; I was only applying for jobs in Long Beach where I intended to live ~ told her that, once I had a job I would be moving to Long Beach. No need to say, "I am living on the streets in Long Beach..."
It is not about possessions, it is about diminishing the value of our mother's estate depriving heirs of their rightful fair share of said estate. It is about her taking unauthorized initiative to give away, throw away our mother's stuff while she was still living.
I saved two jewelry boxes from the trash because I just happened to be there. Sister took Mom's jewelry out of the boxes, put the stuff in a hanging pouch, intermingled with her stuff. She would show it to the grandchildren to pick out what they wanted. One said "I thought I was getting a memento of Grandma, but it was Aunt Dot's."
Probate, of course, requires jewelry to be appraised. Sister Sue wanted a Holly pin she gave Mom ~ sentimental value. Since D took jewelry found in drawers out of the boxes, the holly pin got lost. D substituted another holly pin in the box. Sue kept saying, "I don't remember giving Mom this." I showed her the box which clearly said "Love Sue & Drew." I had forgotten D telling me about the substitution.
Oh, well, no possessions...