TREASURES

In late October, my brother Stan and I held an auction to sell the remaining possessions from our late parents’ house and farm in Kentucky. It took us more than two years to go through the assorted things they had accumulated over a near half century of living in the same house. We both inherited our mother’s sentimentality and our father’s Depression-era habit of never throwing anything away. So this was hard, hard work.

At times, we were angry at our parents for having so much stuff, and then we would stumble across an unexpected treasure they had kept from our childhood, and we would laugh and remember. Sorting through their earthly belongings made me keenly aware that our real treasure was the love they gave us that still remains in our hearts.

My brother and I had years of somewhat limited contact with each other except through our parents. Yet, these last number of years as we dealt with our aging and then dying parents, the bonds have grown much, much deeper. I am grateful and thankful that I didn’t have to share this burden alone. This final culling of our family’s extensive collection of stuff gave us hours together that we might not otherwise have had.

That we’ve emerged through this as closer siblings is something I know would please our parents. My dad was a twin, and today as his twin sister, our Aunt B, celebrates her birthday without him again, I can only imagine how that feels. I am blessed to have a brother who reminds me of the love of our parents that resides within us. That indeed is a treasure.

— Becky Todd York

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist