Toni Lepeska
When a Parent Dies
I hauled the boxes down from the attic, opened the lid and picked out one of the objects inside. It had belonged to my parents. I held it as if it may break, and then I caressed it. I smiled. And then I cried. My mother and father felt so close. And so far away. …
I helped my 10-year-old friend clean and organize her room. As she lobbied to keep a shoe that was about to fall apart, I saw shades of myself in her. And a characteristic of my mother. Her name, which I’m withholding, means moonlight. So I’ll call her Moonlight. An artist, Moonlight saw value in things …
I bet you inherited books. Maybe a Bible. Or a series of recipe books. Or maybe like me, you inherited enough books to fill a small library, too many to ever read during your busy life. What are you to do with them all? I suggest you examine them closely before deciding to haul them …
Death strips us all possessions. So it isn’t surprising that, yes, my parents left behind all their keys – a mass of keys that I combed through on the anniversary of Dad’s passing last week. Door keys. Car keys. Keys to the post office box I still rent. Keys to who knows what. They didn’t …
Value. We put a price on everything. On houses. Cars. Jewels. Stocks. Milk. Eggs. Our morning hit of java. We also put a price on people. On relationships. And on ourselves. We treat everything according to how much we value it. Or how we value him or her. We will protect our person from all …
I feel like a cook tasked with making a stew of two dozen ingredients from a recipe I’ve never seen, and I’m a bit overwhelmed and not sure where to start. Do you ever feel overwhelmed with a new task? Do you ever wonder where to start? Which direction to go? Where to put your …
All this time, I thought I’d given the funeral home the wrong lipstick color. I never was much of one to wear makeup, though I’d grown up seeing my mother paste it on before the rare occasions she’d leave the house. So I didn’t pay attention to her lip shade. Itty bitty nonessential details gain …
I sensed a need to be in touch with my parents, and so I got out the greeting cards. I possibly have one of the largest collections known to man. I collected them from throughout the house. Over the past eight years, I discovered them inside dresser drawers, on top of the coffee table and …
I stood frozen in the doorway of my parents’ walk-in closet again, my eyes darting from Mom’s red party dress to Dad’s sports jackets. Cleaning out a loved one’s closet is perhaps one of the most daunting tasks. I put it off for eight years. Here’s what I learned.
