My favorite response to that set up has always been from Mortimer in Arsenic and Old Lace, when he says “It practically gallops.”
I am finally getting around to writing about this because I’ve begun to get a little of it behind me. In case anyone has or hasn’t noticed, I haven’t been posting a lot lately, and it looks like my activities will be curtailed somewhat for the very near future.
My father died about a year ago at age seventy-nine from complications of diabetes. About three weeks ago, true to statistical form, my mother at age seventy-nine damn near died from pneumonia. At the time, Terry Schiavo had passed away, the Pope had died, and I’m making four half hour visits per day to see my mom on a ventilator, and wondering absently if she was going to pull a trifecta. She was very fortunate in that she was able to be extubated successfully after about two days. She had had a history of heavy cigarette smoking until she quit cold turkey almost thirty years ago. Still, the damage was enough that over the years she had developed a mild, undiagnosed case of COPD. She remained hospitalized for a total of seven days and is now finishing up a twenty day stint in rehab.
The whole time that she was in ICU, I am kicking myself mentally, because we had talked three weeks before she got sick in regards to a living will and healthcare power of attorney. She had actually come all the way across state (she still drives!) to visit my wife and I. We had broached the subject with her and with my dad when he was living many times and they always agreed that they did not want heroic measures… this time again, she left before I could get around to downloading the appropriate forms and having her fill them out. Needless to say, I scrambled around and all the paperwork is in place and notarized since she started rehab.
Let me digress a little at this point, and tell you of my mom and dad, as, in a way, I’m kind of proud of them…
My dad served in WWII in the Pacific as a radioman on an LST. He was too young at the time and had his mom sign for his enlistment. When he got out of the Navy he went to dental school with his GI bill and eventually opened a practice in our little home town, retiring after thirty years of service. He was active in Scouting in many capacities for over forty years and eventually was honored with the Silver Beaver Award, as well as the Cross and Flame Award.
My mom met dad and married while he was in dental school and she was working on her masters in Psychiatric Social Work. They moved back to dad’s hometown and she began work in public mental health. Her list of accomplishments includes founding and fostering a sheltered workshop for the mentally retarded, which was a blueprint for other organizations to come. She also ran the entire local mental health agency for a number of years when they couldn’t find a Psychiatrist for the position. When I entered my teen years, she decided that she wanted to learn to fly… along the way, she got an air taxi license, and was certified as an instrument instructor. She then decided that she wanted to get her PHD as my sister and I started college. Eventually she washed out just short, and never really talked to anyone about why. Later on she took a fancy to learning how to drive an eighteen wheeler, and… you guessed it went on to teach truck driving for a few years! Nowadays, all she can seem to talk about is quilting with her friends.
In 1968 our family moved into Mom and Dad’s dream home. It was a house that they had designed themselves and scrimped and saved to buy the land and build it. It is modest in size by today’s standards, but was quite innovative at the time with huge, double paned picture windows throughout, and other energy saving considerations. Sounds like the American Dream come true, right?
Well, to paraphrase Arthur, “It didn’t suck…” But, I suppose that my sister and I both noticed subtle things amiss as children, even though we didn’t understand. As adults, now we have grown a lot closer in commiseration.
Fast forward to the present day and time. Now, I have read extensively about hoarding behaviors and various theories about how it arises, but… unless you’ve been there and seen it… well… you can postulate all you want. Imagine what it is like to always come up with excuses why your friends and even family shouldn’t come to your house to visit. This is the way my sister and I grew up…
After we left home, mom and dad continued and even got worse; but it was primarily mom who hoarded with dad enabling her. The fascinating thing is that her mother did the same, and all three of mom’s siblings were just as bad or worse. It pains me to admit this, but mom and dad actually became inveterate dumpster divers. It’s not like sis and I stood idly by and watched this; we offered repeatedly over the years to help clean it all up, but each attempt wound up in frustration, as mom just wanted to sort, classify, and store things. I eventually told her that I would be there for them to help when they decided to throw everything away but not to bother me until they decided to do it.
My sister and I eventually found out that a couple of years ago an adult protective services worker showed up to try to convince them to no avail. The clincher probably occurred a few months ago when an insurance adjuster visited and told mom that things would have to be corrected or she would have no more insurance… the house is not insured now.
So, where’s the silver lining to this decades old squall line? What would a loving son and daughter do in this situation? Well, I’ll tell you what we did… we lied like hell. Once mom was somewhat out of the woods and into rehab we convinced her, with the excellent help of the staff, that the house was infested with black mold(there is a lot of mold and mildew, and it is black), would have to be completely cleaned out and re-done, and that she couldn’t return until it was finished. She’s bought it hook line and sinker for now and seems to be handling it fairly well… We’ve also got mom to tentatively agree to letting us have durable power of attorney.
So, anyway, I’ll likely be driving five hours every Friday that I can to spend the weekend mucking out my parent’s dream house and staying in a motel(I can’t even stay at the house because of severe allergies, I start sneezing within ten minutes without a particle mask). My sister is twenty plus hours away and can’t do as much. We can’t really pay someone else to do it and risk that valuable things and papers get tossed too. Thus far, my sister and I filled one thirty foot dumpster and I filled another one on my own this past weekend. My rough estimate is that we’ve got about ten more to go before we can hire people to work on refinishing the inside.
Our goal is for mom to have a home that she can entertain her quilting friends in some day, and a place that she can remain independent for as long as possible with some assistance. The other alternative is that she may come to like being out from under the burden of the home and we can sell it for her… either is a win-win scenario.
I look at myself and I can recognize in me, the things that I feel probably contributed to mom’s tragedy. I am fortunate in that I am able to avoid succumbing to the anxiety that leads to hoarding; I am perfectly capable of throwing things away, albeit with some difficulty on occasion. About the only messy and cluttered thing that I own is my car and my hard drive…
To bring this all back into the realm of politics, I’d have to say that I’d give my state and my country a B+ for the services in place for my mom as I have experienced them, particularly Social Security and Medicaid/Medicare. I will continue my snarky battles with the evil powers that be who seek to eviscerate these programs, but probably at a lower level. I have to say that the last month has taken a lot of wind out of my sails and probably the coming months ahead will be the same.
I have always enjoyed reading Carnacki’s “Happy Story” diaries, but for the life of me, I never could comment much, or come up with a happy story of my own. I guess that this is about as close as it gets for me…
The Dood Abides
Your story was very interesting. My stepmother dies about 5 years ago and my sister had to travel to Pa. to clean out her house for sale. She and her husband were very annoyed and angry at the mess she had left. Hadn’t thrown things away in years, took many dumpster loads and my sister had chronic asthma after the work.
So to make sure that my children are not faced with the same, you never know when the day will come, I have lightened my load considerably in the last several years.
Having your house burn down as I did in 97 helps also, but still I managed to amass quite a large amount of ‘stuff ‘in just a few years. I have already gone through private papers and writings, to remove those I do not want to be seen.
I think it behooves us when we reach a certain age to prepare our houses for our children to easily take care of when the end comes.
I haven’t done the papers (power of attorney, etc.)yet, which I should.
I know there are many people with the same hoarding problems, my daughter is one of them, and I have known others and was guilty of it myself at times.
seems to say that there is a lot of promise with SSRI anti-depressants and specific cognitive -behavioral therapy.
I think perhaps deep down, it is a security issue, many I have known and (myself included at times) sometimes feel better when we have a lot of stuff around us. For some it is “good” stuff, with others it is “any” stuff. Some don’t feel secure in just themselves, they think what they have or own, gives them a personal sense of security. Naked as it were, without “stuff.”.
This is a very simplistic view of course and there are certainly exceptions.
For me it is definitely a security issue-hadn’t ever seen this topic discussed on line, it’s kind of scary to talk about it.I won’t go on ages but I spent a lot of time in foster homes where of course, none of the stuff is yours really. And you can’t get comfy because you don’t know how long you’ll be there. So having my own place and my own stuff was a huge thing. And the fact that ninety percent of the stuff I kept was fairly worthless or completely so didn’t seem to make a difference. I’m doing better, cleared out all but one small room and working on that one next month. Yes, I schedule it-have a little party when I’m done-nice dinner and something chocolate for dessert. It seems to be cyclical though, or ongoing, I have to really stay on it or I end up filling up all spare space again.
five or ten years, and to have to go through this again… but that’s OK…
You should have your mother(you should also) watch Clean sweep on TLC I think is the cable channel, after she recovers, the show gives a lot of good hints and advice and every home they do is a home of a pack rat. A lot of hints about how to organize and keep things organized in every show.
I have used the ideas myself to curb my hoarding behavior.
This is interesting offshoot of this diary of why people do or don’t keep their ‘stuff’. Like you I won’t get into my childhood or even adult life when married but suffice to say I pretty much had nothing(even living in cars at times).
Seems most counselors theorize if you grow up with nothing than you really want to hang on to stuff or never be hungry again. However it certainly didn’t work that way in my case as I said I tend to give stuff away…not that I have much still …it only proves to me to everyone is effected differently from similar situations. Which is what makes us all unique.
but still only marginally understood.
My first husband was a moderate hoarder. He had presents he never opened, for instance. But his half brother, who was my second husband was a serious hoarder. He looked at everything as “stock”. And he was creative and he did do things with some of his junk that was great. But my word, it took me two years just to get the downstairs where I could walk through it. I still have problems on my own with books. I have a fear of throwing away a book even though it is horribly illogical. So I guess it could be a rub-off trait as well.
Hey bood, I so look forward to your diaries and while this is different from your usual entries it was fascinating to me none the less.
I hope your mother continues to do well and that you get her house all shipshape without too much strain on yourself….so I can selfishly anticipate your diary entries sooner rather than later.
I have no contact with either side of my parents(who are both dead) families..so have no idea if there is any insanity on either side….my sister/brother and I are fairly normal(depending on who you talk to) so would guess maybe not..who knows.
I do not save things and that is most likely due to the fact that I’ve moved probably over 50 times and that causes you to get rid of lots of stuff especially when you can’t afford to move more than a car load..also if someone admires something I have I tend to give it away to them. Why, I’m not sure.
My stepmother(also dead) and stepsisters are another story….looney tunes and not the funny kind either and it apparently did run in that family.
“if someone admires something I have I tend to give it away to them.”
You are my hero!
Well I’m not completely altruistic as I wouldn’t give away my books for instance …well unless it was one that wasn’t that important or my very cheap Diego Rivera prints on my walls.
It doesn’t make any difference to me who it is..someone who I don’t know who my sister hired to help me move to a new apartment admired some decor of mine at least I thought he did as he didn’t speak english but he ended up taking it home with him.
My sister says my nephew must have gotten this trait from me as we we’re always telling him not to give away his stuff to anyone and everyone…he’s 25 now and he still has a tendency to do this.
I have never analyzed this but it’s possible that I don’t want to get hung up on thinking that ‘stuff’ or inanimate objects are that important to my happiness.
My Mom is 79 and a pack rat also. Not as much now as she was for years – but still enough to make me want to rent dumpsters everytime we visit.
One thing I have found is that people that grew up as Depression Era children fear that they might need something ‘someday’. They also keep things from their parents and grandparents more so than later generations.
My brother and sisters and I are working on preserving but using some of the heritage items. When asked what we want for birthdays or Christmas, we ask for something sentimental – grandma’s doilies, grandpa’s special book collection, and so on. Mom has been thrilled that we have taken an interest in these items. It also helps to spread the items among 4 houses instead of in boxes in one house.
Lying with good intentions – hmmm – from what you described it wasn’t a lie – just a stretch as to the time frame.
You’re doing the right thing – bless you.
We’ll be here when you get back from your weekends. Bring your stories and diaries and comments – we’ll be waiting for you.
I think hoarding was a WWII necessity thing- my grandmother was a pack-rat- so is my mom- I have some tendacies, but I see it as a form of sentimentality; trying to ‘save’ all the parts of one’s life??
Is there a special name given to hoarding?
Your mom sounds like an interesting and passionate person with adventurous interests to me.
to focus on in regards to my immediate and extended family that would probably justify the insanity snark, but you’re right, in some ways she was passionate and adventurous. My sister and I agree, though that this didn’t leave much time for us when we were young… but I suppose it all worked out OK as we both became very independent individuals.
The hoarding he is talking about isn’t just saving things you might need one day.
It is a variant of full blown OCD. Hoarders will save things like cigarette ashes or used match packs. Not just garbage from a few days or weeks but years and years worth. And, they will do things like pile them on their kitchen table and eventually all over the kitchen floor.
Hoarders, as one might imagine, also tend to be pretty depressed.
You sir, are a prime example of what Kipling’s poem “If” is about.
I have always admired your writings, and comments, as they are straight to the point, a value not much witnessed in today’s times.
I fully understand your situation, and have much empathy for you. You are doing the right thing, and I applaud you for that sir.
I have been, and still am envolved in a similar situation with my parents, not on the hording, but just life itself, and just yesterday, decided to sell everything here, and return to be closer to my father who does, and will need my help more, and more.
Since my mother died a little over a year ago, I came back south, where my heart truly is, and my father promised he would come and spend time here. I had left the area 5yrs ago, when my mother wanted me near, as she knew she was’nt going to last long, and went to be near her. Well now, he is losing hope, (after being with her for 57yrs, and missing her) and will not come. So I will return to be there for him. They were always there for me, and I shall do the same for them. To me, that is “Family Value”.
I will be looking forward to more of your writings, when time allows, so you do what you have to do. Kudos, to you sir, you have my respect, and that is something I do not share foolishly.
As for the Kipling’s poem, “IF” , I keep it by my front door, and look at it always as I am heading out into the world, and have for over 30yrs. It reminds me, of what we should be.
“A Man”
(I believe that this term “A Man” is not gender specific, only to refer, as to what people should be, a “Good Person” ; )
Wow, thanks for the reference to a poem that I hadn’t seen in years; I immediately Googled and re-read it… It sounds like you are a heck of a son, there IP! I honestly don’t think that I would be able to drop a career just to go back and be around either of my parents… My folks would have been married 52 years in March.
but your are my man, you are. In your own way, you are giving of yourself, and that is the most important in harmony in your life.
Enjoy the poem, I have for over 30yrs, and it keeps my head above water some times ; )
A couple of years ago, my husband and I made the mistake of volunteering to execute the estate of my best friend when she was diagnosed with cancer. I knew she was a pack-rat; her apartment was wall-to-wall boxes stacked on top of each other with only a narrow aisle to allow passage from room to room. The dumpster was nearby and her church friends agreed to help us so we cleared the apartment after a few days of hard labor.
Then, we discovered that she had a 15×30 storage unit. Omigawd! It was stacked to the rafters, absolutely packed solid. When we raised the door on the first bay, boxes actually fell out on top of us. It took us six months of weekends to sort and dispose of the contents. And, we HAD TO sort it because inside of a box filled with half-burned candles and brittle aged rolls of wax paper would be a pair of silver candlesticks or a Waterford crystal vase! It was maddening! She had four children who all lived more than 2000 miles away and we wanted to liquidate her possessions and send them checks they all needed badly.
I have to admit that by the time we completed this effort I had come to loathe and despise my dearly departed friend. Already being in sort, dispose and liquidate mode, my husband and I proceeded to attack our own accumulations of crap. We both vowed that our children would never have to go thru what we had done for our friend. Almost everything that is an heirloom has already been given, the trash has been trashed and we are down to a minimum of necessary stuff.
My heart goes out to you, Dood. Wear a filter mask and a back brace and don’t get too caught up in reading any notes or old letters you come across. In my friend’s stash, I found a list of goals she had written in 1997 and item #2 was: “Find a man and fuck him.” I sure was glad it was open-minded me and not one of her daughers reading that. LOL!
that’s funny! I haven’t found any of that kind of “dirt” yet on either mom or dad… I have experienced the “detritus avalanche” that you speak of many times, though…
It is also a mark of prudence and preparedness. As the wife of a dear old friend discovered the other day when her great-granddaughter unexpectedly needed a pair of above the elbow gloves to attend an opera gala.
Such an event was not part of the young lady’s usual lifestyle, and such gloves are very expensive today. Fortunately, her great-grandmother had had the foresight and presence of mind to save all 14 pairs of her opera gloves, and the day! And it took less than a day to find them, as they were very logically stored with a fine old copper wind chime and several sets of colored pencils.
It is better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.
Packing the crystal with old candle ends and classic spark plugs deters thieves.
Additionally, that lady may have hoped that at least one of her descendants might be the enterprising thrifty sort who would appreciate the opportunity to melt down those old candle ends and make his own candle to glint off the Waterford.
Those stacks of old newspapers and magazines can open the door into the world your elders knew, when you were either not born or too young to understand.
Sort through it carefully. Maybe there are some things that you think today that you don’t want, but you might feel differently in 50 or 60 years when your great granddaughter needs a pair of opera gloves, and you think back on the road not taken, along which you might have provided her with a pair whose quality of material and workmanship could not be purchased today by the Sultan of Brunei himself, at any price.
Those rooms and closets are stacked full of a life, of your heritage. The boxes that fall on your head are your patrimony. There is love in them, and confidence that the world will last long enough for you to grow old and welcome the contents into your own collection.
Thanks. I shall consider it as I continue mucking!
Oh, yes, but I won’t go into that just now. Like the others here, I have a lot of respect for you based on your diaries and comments. I helped a friend in a similar situation once, though it was just a couple of weekends and she lived nearby.
Any chance you could hire or u-haul her stuff to one of those storage spaces you can rent near your home? We did that when an aunt died in another state, and it gave us more time and was so much easier!
All the best to you, Dood. Your Mom’s lucky to have you!
Mostly the tendency to hoard canned food, but these days that may be sanity rather than insanity. And probably a learned behavior, not inherited.
Dood, I echo IP and Ductape’s sentiments. I trust you will be checking in from time to time. Please do, and let us give you what support we can.