This poem of Mom’s caught my eye the other day, just as Farmer Gary and I were reminiscing about the bittersweet work that goes into clearing out a long-loved house and finding another family who will make it home.

In 2002, Dad was executor for Mom’s uncle Pip’s estate. Her cousins and even some of their children gathered to help clear out the home that for decades served as a gathering place for four generations of family.

May and Pip were siblings. They cared for their sister Martha, who had suffered a nervous breakdown in 1923 while a young teacher with the Sisters of Mercy. Sadly, we always heard Sister Margaret Miriam could most probably have been helped if only more modern treatments been available then.

Their home was in Orange, Connecticut. As a child, I found the Johnny Appleseed wallpaper in their kitchen to be enchanting.

In the photo below, you’ll see the little ledge above the wood paneling is packed with cards and trinkets sently fondly by nieces and nephews.

But by 2002, all three siblings had passed away. It was time to sell the house to a new family. Mom wrote “House Bound” during that nerve-wracking time when the property is nearly sold and thoughts of lightning strikes, earthquakes, and appliance failures invade your dreams.

House Bound

We pray the well is well today
when leaves are autumn early
in shades that have no right
in August
we hesitate to hope for rain
in case the house we have to sell
to settle his estate is flooded
or it turns cold and the old furnace
dies before October

The captain’s gone
emptying the house
we are abandoning the ship
yet new blood’s on the way
a fresh identity we will not know
far from the kitchen’s cake
and conversation
the playroom’s coloring book
pictures on the wall

~ joan vayo August 28, 2002

Here’s a photo of Mom with May (is that an Amaryllis?) at Christmastime. The photo is undated; I’ll guess it’s the late 1970s or early 1980s.

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“House Bound” © 2002 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

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