So How to Start Letting Go? My Seediness Goes First.

In the past year I have been compelled to purge so I can lessen my load when it is time to MOVE ON…..I more or less became involved in the Lenten 40 Bag effort and truck loads of clothes (in multiple giant sizes…the smallest being a 12) have been hauled off to Scott & White’s Hospice Thrift Shop. Here’s what it boils down to: I don’t want to be nuts at the end of my road over stuff. AND I don’t want to be just barely cooling off when Len calls Max to take my dollhouse to the landfill. I want to be in control of my own Alzheimer’s—however that may look. image brothel.jpg

So, due to disintegrating cognitive skills, I cannot remember how the idea came to me to look for a museum kind of place for Katie Sue’s Social Club. I would like to take credit for the idea, but I am thinking Susan L had something to do with some or all of it. She’s as smart as I ever wanted to be! Anyway, I do know that I Googled the key words and dang, if I didn’t find Miss Hattie’s in San Angelo. I sent an email using the provided contact information. Stephanie was visiting this past November when I received a return phone call from Mark Priest, the owner/director of Miss Hattie’s. I explained my idea about donating the house and asked if he was interested. Yes….and we determined to talk later. So over the past 4 months we concluded that this would be great for both of us.

I tried to figure out how to transport it since it is 42” tall. It wouldn’t fit in my van or Belinda’s; it was way to expensive to rent a truck. Mark kindly volunteered to pull a motorcycle trailer to pick her up. That happened yesterday. I had all kinds of anxiety about how to get it ready and how it should be prepared for the long ride to San Angelo. After a night of sleeplessness, I figured I should forego a massive spring-cleaning for the house. After all, it was bound to be tousled in the move—then I recalled a giant roll of stretch wrap film that’s been in my possession for years. It was perfect.

Mark and his wife, Laura, arrived yesterday about noon. Len and I had good chemistry with them and I look forward to going to San Angelo soon to set all the furnishings in their correct places—and a good dusting too. Laura and I wrapped the house with yards of film so nothing would be lost in transit. Mark had huge panels of 2” thick foam and additional blankets for padding. Len and Mark carried the house to a dolly and then on to the trailer. With careful padding, bungee cording, and other stabilizing they pulled out about 1:30.

Both Mark and Laura were astonished at the detail and very excited to have my treasure for the museum. I wish Miss Hattie’s were a non-profit organization so the house might have a home for many years…. Stop Susan. I can’t start over-thinking all this. Katie Sue’s is gone and more people will see it than have in the past 25 years. I did shed a couple of tears as they pulled out–I reallllllly know that this might be the most difficult of the personal treasures to let go. I tried to give them the huge armoire in the guest room but they didn’t have space for it in the museum. BUT I did give them my research books on brothels, a huge black-feathered boa, and all the remaining miniature supplies. This is good; this is very good. This is also self-talk.

So upward and onward. I can enjoy feeling forward-minded and just a wee bit in control of my own transitions into Alzheimer’s, Ft. Sam National Cemetery, or Trapeze School, which ever comes first. Now I have a nice little table for Mah Jongg and maybe jigsaw puzzles. Yes, all that is true but I did let go of a big chunk of personal history. Just a few more miniature tears are in order, I think. I love my journal—it is such a great emotional hidey hole.

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