Collections and Inheritance.
I don't know If I have mentioned this before, but I am cynic and a pessimist.
I used to have several collections. Collections that sat in boxes and on shelves out of the way. Somehow just knowing that I had them used to bring me Joy. But recently I have downsized that which brings me joy. A major contributing factor to this downsizing was that I needed the money. Then I discovered in myself, what is the point of a collection that remains in a box hidden away simply for the 'joy' of ownership. I imagine that women must experience this sort of thing with shoes and whatever else women are apt to collect. There are eBay adds on TV now "Just in time" for Christmas. There is a young woman fawning over something [Update, Its some red exotic looking purse] that she has acquired by way of an eBay purchase. Looking past her hands and what she has just acquired as the camera pulls out to show a what looks like a small room Lined with shelves and Packed with stuff. I imagine that this little room must bring her much joy. But looking straight down the arrow of time, to a time when she has to bequeath this room of stuff off to her daughter. I am clearly getting ahead of things. She looks to be a Young woman with a fondness for the color red. I do wonder what psychological, Madison Avenue trick of the eye or mind the use of the color red really plays on us. What will this young woman do if the need arises to move to a new apartment or home. How will she explain to her boyfriend / husband the accumulation of this stuff.
I faced a similar situation with my fiance. She had an oversized two car car garage Filled to the 6 foot line with Stuff. In this massive collection of things was a large box filled with one of her daughters report cards. A shoe box for third grade report cards alone.
As a child of a military family we were forced to downsize every year or so. At that of living with my fiance the only thing that I had in abundance were my work tools and a bunch of things that I had acquired in the 30 years working a a prototype development model maker. When the time came to move to Texas from California I implored her to downsize. She did. she rented a 40 foot box dumpster and filled it. That left her with a 60 foot box trailer FULL front to back top to bottom with yet more stuff. When we moved to Oregon from Texas she down sized yet again. a 20 foot u-rent'm dumpster. Filled to overflowing. Then on moving day they brought up a giant Mayflower trailer that she filled that yet again. On arriving in Oregon she disgorged this trailer into a large warehouse bay. Filled most of that warehouse bay and into pallet shelving Twenty feet tall and 80 feet long with four rows. Upon her death her daughters came and picked through most of it. On the third day gave up and summarily ditched the rest.
There is a LONG Ugly story about her daughters and my house which they plundered as well.
I wonder about this for my daughter. I had a bunch of pictures of family members that I myself did not know. So holding to these pictures simply to pass them on to her is ridiculous, at least to me. I wont be able to tell her who they are or worse yet how they relate to her. Now If I did know this person by more than just "This is a picture of your Grand Uncle Dean". There is no context, no narrative, no reason to keep this picture. I do agree that 'My' lifestyle helped foster this situation. By being constantly on the move we were never near enough to any of my or my parent's relatives, to have any meaningful visitation. If, however, I was to show her a picture of her Great Grandmother from my mothers side and was able to tell her that Elizabeth Agnes Clark was the first woman to ride a motorcycle, a Harley Davidson, across the continental United States using this map, stopping here and here and here along this route. That 'might' have sufficient interest to her provided she had any interest in the early American highway system or the whatever else might be a 'hook' for her curiosity. But This is not the case. Nor was it the case for me. I inherited several boxes full of pictures from my mother. I image that many of these people were known to her but she never had the time to disseminate that information and I would in all likely hood have had no interest. My mother, however, a realist and had in fact sorted through a staggering number of boxes of pictures and had winnowed that to the boxes that I did inherit. Soooo there is that. [Update. I just accidentally found old pictures on my computer that I though I had lost forever. They do bring me joy and don't clutter up my home anymore that digital any thing can clutter up your home. I do guess that I should now whip them into "The Cloud".]
The other day I was at CostCo and was tempted to buy some plastic storage bins. I opted to not buy them. If I have things that require me to buy yet more plastic storage bins than I already have then I have too much stuff.
I now have only those things that bring me joy and Are on display. My mothers art work. [The very little that I have. She was a prodigious artist. There was NO medium of art that she set her hand to that she did not Excel at. My first memories were of her oil painting. there when epoxy came into being the dabbled in that. She always kept her hand in clay work. She always seemed to be right on the forefront of what was artistic. When Alexander Calder was making Mobiles and Staybiles in the early '60's she was making great and glorious creations that could have hung in any art gallery anywhere in the world. One of her biggest and most glorious she gave to her friend because we were moving and this particular piece was not going to survive a move. I imagine that she simply gave away the rest over time. She was an amazing sculptress. She did sculptures of me throughout my life. When a friend of hers took an interest in her sculptures of me she started doing sculptures of all the neighborhoods kids. She did her friends kids for free the rest she charged the paltry sum of $100.00. I could fill a full page describing her work. She held an estate sale before I could arrive to collect those thing that I might have wanted of hers. I her defense it was my fault. She did inform me well in advance of the sale but I 'chose' to push it out of my thoughts much like you might push back getting a book report done until the last minute.] Unless it is of any use at some future time like tools I have gotten rid of most of it. I do still hold onto some of my Mothers china service ware but those dishes I keep in the nick of case that in the very unlikely event that I entertain a guest I will have some nice service pieces to use.
As long as we are talking about inheritance what about your bodily remains? I come to believe that embalming and subsequent interment into the ground with a big-deal coffin is a waste on a number of levels. First, the embalming process uses pretty horrible chemicals. Second, setting aside huge tracts of land for cemeteries is ridiculous. Cemeteries by definition need to be close by the family of the deceased, so that they will be likely to visit the deceased. If that is what a burial and head stone are for. The costs associated with the embalming, the casket, the plot of land, the actual service involving a mortuary and the guests and all that is involved with that, the headstone or mausoleum, the care and maintenance of the cemetery grounds, the list goes on and on and on. The point here is that the family of friends of the deceased will in some short time cease to visit the interred individual. leaving the entire situation surrounding the burial completely Mute. A complete and total waste of time money effort and resource.
The idea of a 'Service is great. Gather the friends and relatives together physically or now on Zoom or other technologically wizy way, to commiserate their collective loss or celibate the deceased's life, or in the event the deceased was a total fuck celebrate the fact that the total fuck is Gone, finally.
The notion of 'Leaving your body to science' is an interesting idea. I don't know much about that. I rather doubt that my body would be of any great interest or import to any scientific community or endeavor. Perhaps as a cadaver for med-students to carve up but beyond that nothing but a sad of beat down white guy living out is days, just waiting for the sweet warm breath of death on my neck.
My father chose to be cremated. This is my current choice of ways to be dealt with after. He said to me "You will know that you have the right cremains if there are three Titanium screws that will be from my knee." Sure enough there were Tremendously large titanium screws given to me after. He was interred at the Rose Cranes National Cemetery in San Diego. As a retired Marine Corps Captain he was afforded a full Military service complete with Bugle Player and 21 Gun Salute. I don't recall much from that day other than these facts. I was accompanied by a close friend Lynn and my daughter. My mother was there as was my cousin Nicolas were also in attendance. I don't recall who read out his eulogy. I do recall that I was mentioned in his eulogy in relation to the idea that now perhaps I would be able to step out from behind his shadow. To be sure he did in fact cast a tremendous shadow, being a True big-deal war hero with Purple Hearts, many Medals and Ribbons and was subsequently successful business man. I dont know much about what was going in in his mind PTSD wise. He lived through some of the most harrowing war experiences. Experiences that are largely Unknown to all. As with many fathers like that I was never able to live up to his legacy or his dreams for me. I certainly do wish that I could have. He was, in retrospect a great man and, I, on the other hand,... suck.
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