We came to Canada with two suitcases each. My mom told us to be selective in what we took along. I remember stuffing my little blue Samsonite carry on makeup case with tiny little barbie accessories and toys, leaving my red monkey behind, confident I will see him again. I did not!
As we purchased things, and filled our first apartment, those items became a sign of our new home and new life, like the first bedroom set we had here. Even though I wanted a roll-top desk, mom bought Jackie and I matching light brown sets; bed (was there a headboard??) side table, dresser with six drawers and a desk. Ugly as sin! But it might have been the price that was the deciding factor.
TO THIS DAY, I still want a roll-top desk! One day! One day I will get myself an original, and put it next to my original Eames chair, which I am yet to buy as well.
I remember taping something to the side of my dresser when I was playing with my immigrant Barbies, and when I took it off, the finish came off with the tape and it was particle board underneath. Mom was not pleased I had ruined my dresser. I thought, for a brief moment, that I might get the one I wanted instead but that was a pipe dream. We had that ugly set right until mom sold the townhouse and downsized twenty five years later!
I think back to my grandfather's house, how big and full of beautiful, carefully selected, lovingly gifted, valuable things it was, and then the apartment my widowed grandmother ended up in; a bachelor with a kitchenette and bathroom, and what a stark contrast it was to her well thought out house, garden and the staff who maintained it, and it occurred to me that we all start from a room, sometimes shared with one or more siblings, move to our own room, then flat, sometimes shared again, to our own pad, then a bigger one, a house maybe with a big yard if we are lucky, then slowly start to downsize to an apartment, so we don't have to garden or shovel snow, and eventually to a room, sometimes shared with someone else. Stuff comes and goes, but what do we keep until the end, fraying at the edges and discoloring? Photos!
Sitting at the bank about five weeks ago with my mom, taking over all her finances, she pulled out five passport-sized portraits out of her purse, two were of me, two of her and one of her mother. She kept saying Mamen a (it's mom). I had never seen that portrait of grandma, but it made me smile that here I am, running around photographing three generations of women, and my mom has the same idea in her purse!Since moving mom and going through her things I have been thinking a lot about stuff, mime as well as hers. I have a theory that people who have been forced to leave everything behind and start over have a very hard time letting go of things again. Sadly, none of these things fills the hole of what you left behind, so you keep acquiring more, thinking it might and eventually the things you own start to own you.
I think of all those Syrian Armenians coming to Canada now, experiencing the same things as we did almost 40 years ago, and I know within two years their homes will be full of things they won't have much use for, but will not be able to let go of. My own house is bursting at the seams with my stuff, my dad's photographic tools of the trade and and his other tools, and now mom's things too, and I feel paralyzed to do anything about it. It is becoming a problem.
As I was trying to get back to sleep about an hour ago I had a thought; wouldn't it be nice if we all just accumulated experiences instead, that we all lived a simple life, with very few possessions, but used our money to learn and enrich ourselves from within or simply do things we enjoy? If I didn't feel the need for a house with a big back yard that I have been neglecting, I would have extra money to take courses, travel more or learn an instrument. Maybe doing these things will keep my mind pliable and make me happier even- the big house certainly isn't. I may not be taking courses, but at least the only thing I have spent money on this year has been concerts, and my photography. I am good with that. If only I could purge all these unnecessary things!!
Mom did travel quite a bit. Above she is pictured with Robert in Plovdiv, Bulgaria, visiting me, in 2005. She also tried to take a nutrition course after she retired to keep her mind active and properly learn something she was passionate about. I was so proud of my mom! The course was at a community college and she was the oldest student, and dare I say, the most popular from what I remember. Much to her and our disappointment, she had to give it up. I believe she was at the very early stages of her disease and she was finding it hard to remember the content, and study. I remember just how sad I felt for her that she couldn't continue, knowing how badly she wanted to.
After that, she likely felt things were over for her and perhaps she began to give into her disease, knowing what was creeping into her life. Around the same time she began saying things like my brain is rotting etc. Khenzor, did you know? Were you worried? Did you think it would get this bad? I know we had no idea, and maybe we don't know what's around the corner, but whatever it is, I hope you go through it in oblivion, for your sake. We will take care of all the other stuff.
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