Its been longer than I intended of course, but here I am.
I could fill in the past 4 months, but I need to talk about something thats happening today.
Today, Elise and I are heading to The Big House. It will be the first time I set foot in it since my mid-twenties so what...25 + years?
My Aunt Rebecca died a couple of months ago. Her passing was unexpected by us, although to those around her I don't think it was. My aunt lived in the house after my grandmother, Bigmama, died. My father took care of her in the best way he could, which was allowing her to stay in the family home while he kept it up from afar.
My aunt was at best, "a little nutty". At worst, and likely more legitimate, she was extremely mentally ill. She thought people were out to get her, to hurt her or her dogs, or to steal from her. Because of this, she refused to allow workers in the house to fix things, and in spite of the thousands of dollars and hours of mental work my dad did over the years trying to keep the house in good condition, it has evidently ended up looking a bit like Grey Gardens. With ceilings caving in from unfixed leaks, and large dogs allowed to roam the house coupled with her own failing health, it is I'm told, in terrible shape.
A month or so ago, Elise took our mom down to see it. She walked through it on facetime with me, and I was overwhelmed with a sense of loss. It really is in terrible shape. If I didn't know better Id say it looks a bit like squatters had been living in it.
That last time we were all there was when Bigmama died. It was in its best shape possible for that time. Still without central AC, my mom and dad made sure if something was broken, it got fixed. Bigmama being gone changed all that. Well, it changed the easy part, allowing people in to fix things stopped when she was gone. Allowing US in also stopped.
Years would go by, and each time we passed it going to the beach I would wonder what it looked like inside. My memories of this place run deep. It was, to me, our real home. We never actually lived there, but since we moved so much with dad in the army, we stayed there during the summer often.
That was the routine. Move to a place for however long, a year, 2, the longest Alaska at 3. School ends, sell the house, pack it all up, go to the Big House and spend the summer with our cousins, swimming at Aunt Buddies pool down the street. Meanwhile dad would go ahead of us, find a house in a good school district, and then come get us when it was time.
I remember so much about that place. Not always good memories but very consistent. Beth was the oldest so she was "in charge" which Bigmama went to work at the courthouse. It was a part time job but I could tell it was important to her.
While she was at work, Beth would sequester herself into "The Purple Room" upstairs and read, while Elise, my cousin John and I would play. John and I were pretty close. We also used to pal around with my cousin TK, who lived next door. AT some point mid morning-ish we would all get ready for the pool. In my mind it seemed like a really long, hot walk to Aunt Buddies house, but well worth it. She was a happy woman that loved having us around, and their great big "movie star" type pool was my favorite place.
Well, FAST FORWARD TO 2024- I never finished that post. We went , it was in horrible shape, and we busted ass cleaning and throwing things away for 2 days. I took some photos, then we left and I have not been back since. Elise went back several times wrapping things up to get ready to sell, and as of this wee (FEBRUARY 6 2024) its now finally on the market.
I cred about it a lot. Memories of days long ago. Some good, some not so good. Bigger than that its just another part of my small family's roots that are being, well, ripped up.
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