hoarding -part 5

      grandma was one that left little to waste and  this could be evidenced by what she threw away. it was nothing that anyone could use. peelings at best and very little apple pulp left . chicken bones that looked as if something had meticulously cleaned every scrap of meat off of them. even the wing tips were devastated as grandma would pick and chew at every little morsel of meat , undoubtedly remembering the depression years  when eating a dinner. the thud of a spoon beating on the bottom of a bowl , clattering long after any suitable morsel of food was gone ,pounding the bottom and sides and scraping and cajoling , as if to congregate the moisture or essence of food into just one more spoonful of nourishment to sustain her aging body. at times i felt it was more her obsessiveness with saving that she needed to nourish as undoubtedly it  took time and effort to be so patient in getting the last worth out of everything you touch. this was grandma . the ultimate saver for me that would send shivers up my spine and still grates my nerves to touch today , and that is butter wrappers. the slimy butter or oleo wrapper  as grandma called it, needed to be scraped and eventually licked to release all the greasy nutrients one could possibly muster out of a wrapper. just touching them to this day sends chills up my spine. then she would neatly stack them in a pile as if to use them for something else. i shudder to think what that purpose was.  but at the same time everything was kept clean and neat as it had been most times while visiting grandma. my only mention of this peculiarities is to show the extent of what we faced when it came to her saving abilities and it was fast approaching a time when we as a family needed to intervene for her safety. 

       my aunt and myself had discussed to some extent that grandma was facing when it came to the overcrowding of her stuff. i will use stuff as the term for those possessions grandma held dearly. it was stuffed everywhere and she was now walking on papers as she let me in the living room to talk one day. i had informed my aunt fran that grandma wanted me to put her a space heater in her living room so that she could work in that room longer to sort through her stuff. i refused to install the heater. it required 4 feet  of clearance of non combustibles around it, an open space , grandma didn't have and it concerned me. i offered to move the stuff for her and she refused to let me again. saying she didn't know where to put it and that she needed to sort it out first. i told her there is no way  was going to install the heater. until she had the clear space required. in an effort to come to a compromise i offered to build her a building and would put a locking garage door on it and she could have the key. she owned a 165 ac. farm and one more garage wouldn't make much difference  this seemed to appeal to her somewhat  and told me to figure out a price. i figured we could at least clean out the downstairs and get things better for her with the family's help. grandma was approaching 90 years old and didn't need to be tripping and falling on stuff. we all worried that the authorities would have a fit with us if they had to come in. on the other hand a person should be allowed to live in their own house as long as they can take care of them self and be of sound mind. grandma up until this point had ruled the roost when it came to her welfare, but we were strained to allow it to continue longer. i had asked for one more attempt to let grandma stay in her house from aunt fran by offering to build the garage and moving her stuff into it. i couldn't see my grandma in a rest home . 

       a few days passed since i refused to install the heater and offered to build the garage  and i had some figures and a plan for the garage with approximate cost. i was going over the figures and grandma stopped me at one point and asked me if she could have a bathroom and a bed in the new garage. i was flabbergasted and knew at that point she had no concern for her own safety choosing instead to choose her possessions over safety and security. she needed help as she was slipping . i wrestled with the thoughts of her being in a rest home but felt it was better than her ever living in a garage at 90 years old. what kind of a person would allow this. i told grandma there was no way i was going to build the garage so she could live in it. she was mad at me a few days and then one morning i checked on her and later my aunt checked on her and she had fallen in between that time. she wasn't hurt to bad except for her dignity . she only suffered a few bruises but was kept in the hospital. then  was transferred to a rest home where she slipped away more quickly as alzheimer's and dementia set in with a fervor . but she was kept clean and comfortable till she died at the age of 94. never again returning to her home. 

         we had done all that we could for grandma and we were still faced with the task of going through the house and sorting out all she had left. we are each left with mementos of grandma , and her presence in all that she left still exists in all we do today. she is hardly ever out of my thoughts and only hope she is in peace now as she worked real hard all her life to achieve a life without worry. this story is wrote out of an effort to idolize one woman who has had a profound impact on all our lives in our family. she affectionately lived up to her nickname the worrywart as she was always worried we never would be able to keep what we have. and maybe in the end this is  my way of keeping her memory alive. 28 dumptruck loads of stuff went to the landfill a along with a trailer full of stuff sold at auction .and were still dealing with some of her stuff. this was grandma.