The house clearing was, in a way, as painful as their parents’ passing had been. It was now almost four years later and it had to be done. They could not postpone it any longer. They were losing money, the house market was the highest it had been since the crash, so they had to act.
The sister and the brother decided to have an auctioneer come in and take away the most valuable things so they can be sold off in auction. The rest would be destined for the skip, or the family if they wanted any of what was left.
The two children had hugely different feelings and memories about their parents. The younger one, the girl, she had been born almost seven years after her brother, and she remembered a happy childhood with loving parents and with nothing missing.
The boy, the older child, was full of resentment towards his mother for not loving him enough, and full of hatred for his father, who did not pay any attention to him while growing up. The boy, now a grown up man, had felt growing up as a tolerated family member, he had not felt wanted or loved, not to mention appreciated.
They fed him alright, they clothed and provided the necessary things for him, but he never felt their love, their warmth, their caring, and when the little girl came along it got even worse, it was like he was invisible.
His sister though, behaved totally different than his parents, she was loving and caring, even as a little girl she would follow him around like a little duckling in her frothy dresses wanting to play with him. Years of patient support from his sister had helped him mend his wounds somehow but now, because of the clearing, the scars had started to itch and to become uncomfortable, flooded by the memories of the years of neglect.
‘Come on! We can do this! Think of the money! You will be able to do so much with it! And so will I!’, his sister took his hand and led him into the cold, dark house.
Somehow, in a weird way, she seemed to understand him, although to her their parents had been completely different people. She had this uncanny expansion of the mind and the heart, that allowed her to resonate with other people’s most intricate feelings.
They spent half a day in the house sorting things out, filling out bags for charity or for the skip, setting aside things the auctioneer might want to look at. After lunch they divided what was left.
‘I’ll do the kitchen, you go do dad’s shed!’, her tone did not leave any space for refusal, so, with dread in his heart, he crossed the overgrown garden and, feeling as if he was doing something forbidden, he walked into his father’s shed.
It took a bit for him to find the light switch and when he did, he turned on the lights to be faced with the most unbelievable sight.
Hundreds, no, thousands of little toy soldiers, horses, all sorts of tiny weapons and buildings, it was mind blowing … the shed seemed vast filled with armies upon armies of tiny, beautifully painted soldiers and their war accessories.
The son was stunned. He had no idea these things were there, that they existed, oh and how he would have loved them when he was a child. How he would have loved to be there with his father and play with them, paint them, share them … Tears started running down his cheeks and he felt he was crumbling inside…
Why had his father never shared this with him? Why had he been pushed away? Why had he been made to feel like he was never deserving of their love, their attention? Why …?
The man sat there crying for a long time and then, as he started to settle, a strange peace fell over him. It did not matter now, all the power they had was over the little boy he had been, now he was in charge of that little boy and he will not be like his parents, he will love himself while paying himself the attention he deserves.
They, his parents, had done what they could, thought, whatever, he was not responsible for their actions, he could just mind himself now, and that was what he was planning to do.
‘It is lots of toys in the shed, maybe the auctioneer can sell some …’
‘Ok, we’ll leave them for him then!’, his sister was half buried in a pan drawer.
He loved her lightness of being and felt comforted by her presence.
‘Need help here?’
‘Oh for sure! I had no idea mam had such an obsession with pans …’
He laughed and, for the first time, he felt his old feelings clearing out making room for new possibilities with new hopes and dreams.
Lovely. Such emotional wisdom.