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I spent the day with my parents today. My mom's big project right now is sifting through the bags upon bags upon boxes of papers left from my grandfather. We're looking for the title to the car. We did not find the title to the car in the three bags four boxes and a trunk. We did find seventy some years worth of photographs, letters, cards, and bank statements. We found poetry my grandmother wrote - mostly fairly dark.
We found the love letters Elizabeth sent my grandfather for the past ten years or so. Elizabeth has been in love with my grandfather since the 1930's. They stayed in the same boarding house when she was in school for nursing and my grandfather played in the Philadelphia Philharmonic. He moved to up state New York (and was eventually trapped by my grandmother in marriage) and she married a very wealthy southern doctor. She's been widowed for many years, and about fifteen years ago they got back in touch with each other. At that time my grandmother was continuing her decent into Alzheimer's, and my grandfather was lonely and isolated with a wife he couldn't understand, and who abused him, mentally, emotionally, and physically.
They began to write to each other, and after my grandmother was placed into a nursing home, and no longer recognizing anyone, we'd tease him a bit about his girlfriend Elizabeth. We found a lot of her letters today, and I tried reading one. It was OMG sweet, and rather flowery and quite loving. She certainly has a way with words. I know her letters and calls gave him *great* comfort the last decade of his life. But I had stop reading because it was slightly squicky to think of such passion between them.
Also found were letters and cards from family members. All growing up, most of the contact we had with my grandparents was through letters. I found them all quite hilarious - especially the ones my mom wrote to them - because it was like seeing us all from her perspective. Some of the things she says about me when I was in those difficult teenage years are absolutely hysterical. And my brother's letters to them sound like they were written by a sixty year old man, not a ten year old boy (Thank you for the twenty-five dollars... I think I shall invest in a set of legos). What a riot!
My mom found a lot of photos that were her grandmothers that she though her mother disposed of years ago. Black and white photos of her as a little girl. Lots of newspaper clippings of both of my grandparents (and my mom). Gallery shows they both were in, committees my grandmother was a part of - one I remember was she took part of a Mother's Polio Walk back in the late forties/early fifties, I think.
Grandma with her dogs. Grandpa and his musician friends. Lots of letters and cards from students. Bank paperwork, medical paperwork, insurance paperwork, the purchase and sale paperwork for about six different properties. The purchase of the car. The service tuneups for the car. But no title of the car itself. It is not in the safe deposit box. So while it is still MIA we threw out two huge garbage bags full of old paperwork that are unnecessary and unneeded.
I can't imagine doing a job like that by myself. We kept each other entertained by reading snatches of bits of things to each other.
It was really cool, and I was so glad to have helped my mom because I know it is still really hard for her.
We found the love letters Elizabeth sent my grandfather for the past ten years or so. Elizabeth has been in love with my grandfather since the 1930's. They stayed in the same boarding house when she was in school for nursing and my grandfather played in the Philadelphia Philharmonic. He moved to up state New York (and was eventually trapped by my grandmother in marriage) and she married a very wealthy southern doctor. She's been widowed for many years, and about fifteen years ago they got back in touch with each other. At that time my grandmother was continuing her decent into Alzheimer's, and my grandfather was lonely and isolated with a wife he couldn't understand, and who abused him, mentally, emotionally, and physically.
They began to write to each other, and after my grandmother was placed into a nursing home, and no longer recognizing anyone, we'd tease him a bit about his girlfriend Elizabeth. We found a lot of her letters today, and I tried reading one. It was OMG sweet, and rather flowery and quite loving. She certainly has a way with words. I know her letters and calls gave him *great* comfort the last decade of his life. But I had stop reading because it was slightly squicky to think of such passion between them.
Also found were letters and cards from family members. All growing up, most of the contact we had with my grandparents was through letters. I found them all quite hilarious - especially the ones my mom wrote to them - because it was like seeing us all from her perspective. Some of the things she says about me when I was in those difficult teenage years are absolutely hysterical. And my brother's letters to them sound like they were written by a sixty year old man, not a ten year old boy (Thank you for the twenty-five dollars... I think I shall invest in a set of legos). What a riot!
My mom found a lot of photos that were her grandmothers that she though her mother disposed of years ago. Black and white photos of her as a little girl. Lots of newspaper clippings of both of my grandparents (and my mom). Gallery shows they both were in, committees my grandmother was a part of - one I remember was she took part of a Mother's Polio Walk back in the late forties/early fifties, I think.
Grandma with her dogs. Grandpa and his musician friends. Lots of letters and cards from students. Bank paperwork, medical paperwork, insurance paperwork, the purchase and sale paperwork for about six different properties. The purchase of the car. The service tuneups for the car. But no title of the car itself. It is not in the safe deposit box. So while it is still MIA we threw out two huge garbage bags full of old paperwork that are unnecessary and unneeded.
I can't imagine doing a job like that by myself. We kept each other entertained by reading snatches of bits of things to each other.
It was really cool, and I was so glad to have helped my mom because I know it is still really hard for her.
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