Have you ever watched the show on television called Hoarders? If you have then you have seen my mom. If you have not....you should...and vow never to become that person. After I watched it I wanted to give away every THING I owned. I looked up the definition of hoarding and this is what I found. Hoard (hôrd, hrd) n. A hidden fund or supply stored for future use; a cache. v. hoard·ed, hoard·ing, hoards v.intr.To gather or accumulate a hoard.v.tr.1. To accumulate a hoard of. 2. To keep hidden or private. I have debated on this post since I first entered what was my parent's house to begin the cleaning process. When Frank and I walked into the house I was physically ill. The picture you see to the left
is was the dining room. There is no table in it. It was filled with junk. Bags upon bags of old clothes that people had given my mother to donate to the crisis center in Coosa Co. Why did they give them to her? I think they did not want to have to make the effort of driving to the county seat in Rockford and donating them themselves...so they asked my mom to do it for them...and she never could say no to a sob story.
My mom's clothes were hanging on the shower stall in the bathroom and on the doors leading in and out of the bathroom. You could not see or use the shower because there was so much stuff in and around the stall itself. I had to move several bags just to walk through. Now...let me explain....for the last almost five years my parents have lived with Frank and I....and I see why. I would live with us too. Number one you can find stuff and number two you can walk without tripping over junk. I remember once...before they moved in with us...going to see my mom and dad....they only let a few people actually enter the house....and my mom was asleep (she worked the third shift at Wal-Mart until she was 79)...my dad...was eating his lunch...and playing cards on an ironing board. Do you know how much that hurt me. There were six dining room tables sets in this house...buried under a mountain of trash...and he ate and played solitaire...on the ironing board! I wanted to take him home with me right then....but his pride would have kept that from happening. When he got sick and I had to MAKE them come home with me....he seemed relieved. I guess so. He could move about without the fear of falling....watch television as loud as he wanted to....and eat and play cards on a real live table. He must have thought he'd died and gone to heaven. My mom continued to collect stuff....and take it to the house. A year before my dad died a tree limb fell on the roof of their wash room and did some damage. I did not know this...because I was never allowed to go in the house once they moved in with us. She supposedly went up everyday and worked...getting the house ready for them to move back in. The limb damaged the roof...which caused leakage...which caused mold...and soft floors now. My dad suffered from COPD...he would NEVER be allowed to live in that house....and survive. My mom would threaten to move home from time to time...and I would quietly tell her....not until the roof was fixed. This house, honestly should have been condemned. I was ashamed...when the people who came to work with us...showed up. I was mortified by what my parents lived in. I have seen the results of hurricanes and earthquakes first hand....this ranked right up there. Honestly! I told my daughter...if she ever sees me heading this way....stop me! This picture is of their bedroom...and we had moved some stuff around so that you could
actually move in the room. I don't know where they planned to sleep. I am an only child. I am still not even partially ready to have an estate sale...there is still tons of stuff to be moved around. Hoarding is a bad habit. Dealing with it has caused me to rethink how important STUFF really is. I don't want anything that takes over like that. I have enough bad habits without this one. Griefus! I have to admit....blogging about this has made me feel a lot better. I want to become an advocate against hoarding. I am one of those...a place for everything kind of people....so you can imagine what this did to my psyche....it sent me into orbit. Whew...well I have gotten this one out of my system....so Happy Thursday to you all! Keep your fingers crossed that I survive this venture. It has been a real character builder for me. Ciao for now.
My mom's clothes were hanging on the shower stall in the bathroom and on the doors leading in and out of the bathroom. You could not see or use the shower because there was so much stuff in and around the stall itself. I had to move several bags just to walk through. Now...let me explain....for the last almost five years my parents have lived with Frank and I....and I see why. I would live with us too. Number one you can find stuff and number two you can walk without tripping over junk. I remember once...before they moved in with us...going to see my mom and dad....they only let a few people actually enter the house....and my mom was asleep (she worked the third shift at Wal-Mart until she was 79)...my dad...was eating his lunch...and playing cards on an ironing board. Do you know how much that hurt me. There were six dining room tables sets in this house...buried under a mountain of trash...and he ate and played solitaire...on the ironing board! I wanted to take him home with me right then....but his pride would have kept that from happening. When he got sick and I had to MAKE them come home with me....he seemed relieved. I guess so. He could move about without the fear of falling....watch television as loud as he wanted to....and eat and play cards on a real live table. He must have thought he'd died and gone to heaven. My mom continued to collect stuff....and take it to the house. A year before my dad died a tree limb fell on the roof of their wash room and did some damage. I did not know this...because I was never allowed to go in the house once they moved in with us. She supposedly went up everyday and worked...getting the house ready for them to move back in. The limb damaged the roof...which caused leakage...which caused mold...and soft floors now. My dad suffered from COPD...he would NEVER be allowed to live in that house....and survive. My mom would threaten to move home from time to time...and I would quietly tell her....not until the roof was fixed. This house, honestly should have been condemned. I was ashamed...when the people who came to work with us...showed up. I was mortified by what my parents lived in. I have seen the results of hurricanes and earthquakes first hand....this ranked right up there. Honestly! I told my daughter...if she ever sees me heading this way....stop me! This picture is of their bedroom...and we had moved some stuff around so that you could 
actually move in the room. I don't know where they planned to sleep. I am an only child. I am still not even partially ready to have an estate sale...there is still tons of stuff to be moved around. Hoarding is a bad habit. Dealing with it has caused me to rethink how important STUFF really is. I don't want anything that takes over like that. I have enough bad habits without this one. Griefus! I have to admit....blogging about this has made me feel a lot better. I want to become an advocate against hoarding. I am one of those...a place for everything kind of people....so you can imagine what this did to my psyche....it sent me into orbit. Whew...well I have gotten this one out of my system....so Happy Thursday to you all! Keep your fingers crossed that I survive this venture. It has been a real character builder for me. Ciao for now.
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