Several months ago, we moved my dad out of the condo (that mom and dad was living in) to a senior home (mom passed away quite a while ago, and he was living by himself all that time). The plan was to keep the condo, in case he didn’t like the Senior Home, in which case we could move him back.
Dad seems to like the Senior Home enough where we had to move on selling the condo. We didn’t move everything, so now we have to move all the junk that is left in the condo.
Part of this is to allocate stuff between myself, my sister, and my brother, and the rest would be junked.
We did meticulous account for everything (taking pictures, tracking then with a spreadsheet). However what we didn’t account for was stuff we had in the storage cage. Oops.
A bunch of stuff we found brought back some old memories, the type of stuff that will get you nostalgic.
There was also some confusion over which storage cage was ours. I was the one who typically went down to the storage cage more than my brother or sister. I had my bike stored there, so naturally I would go down there more often. So my brother identified what we thought was our cage, but actually it was the one next to it. With this in mind, he didn’t recognize anything that was in that cage. It was unlocked, and the thought was people were putting all sorts of junk in our cage. So they cleaned it out, and put some of the stuff from the condo into the cage.
When I finally made it here, I went down and immediately said “that’s not our cage”.
That was just hilarious. Well, we finally got the right cage, and was able to get the right junk in the right cage.
After finally identifying the right cage, I found even more junk that we didn’t identify. It’s eerie going through some of this old stuff, that you remember from years past. I guess this happens to everyone, but still think it’s eerie.
Time to finally close another chapter if our life … Saying goodbye to dad’s final condo. It just made me reflect being alone in an echo chambered empty condo. Eerie ….