Home Clean-Out
Got a call from my dad this weekend, looking for some help to clean out the house. He has it on the market, so we will eventually need to empty the place of all the stuff we don't want anymore. Poor guy sounded exhausted on the phone. More mentally exhausted than physically. It's always tough taking trailer load after trailer load of stuff you've accumulated over the years to the local recycling center. So I packed my backpack and hopped on the bike to go stay with my dad for the rest of the weekend.
I'll never forget the look my dad gives me when I do something stupid. I think it's the same look I give to people when they ask me stupid questions. Yes, I went back home to help him clean up, but I knew there would be stuff that he would want me to keep and take back to my place. Not exactly easy to throw a bunch of stuff in the trunk of my bike to bring back to my garage. He gave me the same look when I rode up that afternoon, as when he first taught me to change the oil in my car. I was laying underneath the car after warming up the engine for a few minutes. He was laying under there with me, making sure I wouldn't screw up anything. I decided to position myself right underneath the oil pan so I could get better leverage on the drain bolt. I mean literally right in front of the thing. As I started wrenching on it, my dad was giving me the same "you idiot" look out of the corner of my eye. Needless to say after a few more turns, I had hot engine oil spilling all over my face and chest. I think my dad still regrets sending me to college to this day.
I can always tell when my dad makes a new purchase. You'll see something at the house out of place, like his new running sneakers. I even know the thought process behind this purchase...find the cheapest possible running sneaker on Amazon. In this case, hot pink ladies running shoes. He was even going to wear them to the Italian restaurant we were going to for dinner, but luckily I am socially retarded enough to where I couldn't handle something like that in public, so I made him change his shoes.
Spent much of the day taking loads of old clothes, books, and just junk, over to the city recycling center via my dad's old trusty trailer. All these bins were completely full of stuff at one point or another. Now we are just dumping the bins. Still a ton of stuff to get rid of.
Home is definitely "emptier" with all my mom's plants gone now.
My dad kept this cactus for me though. He knew my mom loved this one and wanted me to have it. It will look nice in my apartment. I think this guy is as old as me.
Still going to miss this place. It's been in the family for 40 years.
One of my main jobs when I get home is to try and make sure my dad isn't eating like a complete savage. He uses me as an excuse to go out and buy polish sausages, kielbasa, and pretty much anything else that's terrible for you at a Polish butcher shop. So like the good son, I try to eat as much of it as I can before he just eats it all himself. Woke up Sunday morning to watch the MotoGP races, and unfortunately the only coffee I could find was this sealed can of instant Cuban coffee. I believe the can had a very faded date of 1987 on it, but it was sealed and I needed coffee. Between the sausages trying to stop my heart, and this super charged caffeinated Cuban motor oil making my heart explode, it was the perfect balanced meal.
After watching the first two races over breakfast, we lounged and watched the main race. It was an amazing race. My dad has been a Rossi fan since we both started watching in 2003. Best race of the season so far.
I still need to clean out the garage. Lots of tools and camping to go through and save. Two kayaks to move to Florida, and one Sunfish sailboat to move to Colorado. We'll figure it out. It's tough for me and my dad, again more so mentally than physically, but I know he will be happier in the end without this place to worry about anymore.
Even he, who wants to get rid of everything as quickly as possible, will every once in a while stop to play. After trashing endless amounts of books, sewing supplies, and old posters in his back office, he decided to wind up this old coo coo clock hanging on the wall. After waiting for the bird to start blaring, he decided he would lug it down to Florida after all.
After cleaning up all day, we went to dinner at an Italian place in town. He even swung for an appetizer, now that he could afford it since he was selling his house. After a second helping of free bread, not one ounce of sauce was left from that stuffed mushroom order.
Italian usually cheers us up, but in this case it wasn't that good. After leaving the place, my dad insisted on walking past the old ski shop in town where my mom used to work. He was so happy that after four years, they still have her picture up in the storefront window.
On the drive home, he got a call from his realtor with another offer on his house, so that cheered him up. He mentioned to me once that he'd like to go back to Alaska one more time, so I think I'll start looking at trips after he sells this house. I need to get back to taking pictures.