IN THE ATTIC
IN THE ATTIC
It was an old house but filled with memories as well as with junk and dust. Angela said she’d leave our twns with a neighbour because they’d only be in the way in mum’s old house, and she would come wih me and Bobby to help with mum for a couple of hours.
Mum had been at me and Bobby for years to fix up the garden and the attic and make the house more attractive. We didn’t see the need for she would be better off selling and getting a bungalow, especially since she was now effectively confined downstairs anyway. We wanted her to sell it and move - but no, she was going to stay in the house where she had lived and had her family.
Bobby and me were sittng having a last cup ofcoffee
We’d better finish today or else the paint will dry in patches
OK Bob I just wanna empty this pot then I’ll get cracking. I said picking flakes of cream coloured paint off my overallls
You’ve always been a coffee-holic he snorted Maybe after that living room wall is covered we should at least take a stab at clearing the attic?
We??? That’s for me I reckon -- with that waistline, you’d never make t it up that ladder Bob.
He pulled a face and rolled his eyes. As usual, you know best big brother he added sarcastically
Yes the attic could do with some attention Joe, added my wife stepping carefully over the wet brushes and paint trays. I just gave your mum her sandwich and some tea, and she’s anxious to see you two up there and working instead of guzzling coffee all day hahaha
That’s right you tell him Angie, said Bob with a satisfied smirk..
Bobby started away on the last half can of paint. Of course he would be all right painting the wall alone and didn’t need my help, I thought, trying to excuse myself for not helping him any more. After the last mouthful of the black elixir, I flicked on the upstairs switch and was quickly up the ladder, looking to begin with the so-called “clearing”, something which I had attempted several times but unfortunately often degenerated into reminiscing . My interest was grabbed straight away by some old family photos and I stumbled over a heap of boxes to get to them . Each box kinda held its own story. Some had textbooks on drawing, some had bits of lego spilling out, still others had half-used packets of seeds for garden flowers.
Moving aside a few large empty cardboard boxes which had at one time been used as castles by the twins, I saw under one box, kinda propping it up, a wooden kitchen chair with a poorly-repaired broken leg. On the chair lay a neat folder of carefully collected and arranged children’s drawings. Old family photos forgotten, I spread out the drawings and gazed absent mindedly. They had been done by me and Bobby when we were aged 6 or 7. Cars trains tanks and so on. Mum was going to have them bound into a book. It got put off again and again and as us kids got older it became less relevant due to natural internal changes in family life. ..
Leaning against the wooden back of the chair was a very dusty violin case. I peeped in, and inside it was still holding a violin in good condition. Dad had wanted to learn to play, but never got round to it. I guess he gradually had less spare time and so his interest dissipated. Mum too had less opportunity for her beloved dancing and they rarely went out to a local dance. As we grew up, the changing expenses and priorities of teen life pushed everything aside. One such change became important when I overheard Mum telling dad..
Bobby turned sixteen last month and had to choose his course for next year at school .
I went to the school meeting while you were working overtime last Thursday. Bobby has chosen an architectural design course at the tech. It’ll cost extra but it’s a better career prospect for him……
No problem, Alice, said dad - I was discussing new products and extra work time at the factory only last week - the overtime work -and I said I would think about supervising the new line. It would mean more income pretty soon. So. to meet the new expenses dad had taken on extra work at the factory in the evenings. These changes in external circumstances affected our family in many ways.
Looking up from the drawings, I could see why mum wanted the attic fixed as soon as the repainting was done. It was nothing but an unfinished part of my parents’ house Dusty, long untouched and overlooked, an untidy disorganized mess. It was essentially a half-forgotten room, nearly abandoned. Out of si ght out of mind . Neglected, a useless space, it was no longer counted as a part of the house. There were no windows, only an electric bulb. Dad had long intended to floor it properly and get a painter to do the walls,and put in a couple of big roof windows and bring it back into proper use as a family room.. But he never had tme - he was always too busy actually earning the money to pay for it Mum thought it would provide a spacious room for Bobby’s design course work.
She said Sure he can’t do his large drawings and plans in that tiny bedroom he’s always complaining about. And even if he moved his stuff into another bedroom there’s not enough space or even daylight for good drawings, designs, plans, and god knows what…
We could knock a couple of walls down and combine two bedrooms into one?said dad
But why bother with the expense and trounble? Just let’s clear out the attic. We’ve been talking about it for years she offered
You mean you’ve been talking about it for years Alice… hahaha
The attic “held” evidence of the unfinished parts of our family’s life. Next to the family photos and under the folder of drawings there was a box with some letters addressed to my dad. Unsent. As they tumbled out and spread across my feet , mixing in with our drawings. I started to recall how we had all fallen out . It wasn’t just the attic which they disagreed about. A letter from some lawyer came to my hand and I recollected what they had argued about many times.
The land should be signed over to the two boys, mum had stated firmly in a loud voice .Three acres! We could never even use it for anything…too much work!
Well , it really complicates things if we ever want to sell it or extend it into Reagan’s field. He added Of course the land will go entirely to the boys after some years. ..
Oh I know why you really want to retain title for years …..so that you can get a loan from the bank to expand the business! Her voice rose higher in anger
Well, it is our family business after all! And he felt in his shirt pocket for his tablet box. I’ll have to take the little white pill cos my heart is playing up as usual.
Yes take your pill, they’re on the counter over there. You think more about the damned business than you do about us!
It was this simple difference of views that caused the constant bickering and sometimes huge bitter all night long rows about the family’s property ownership 15 years ago. It became so bad for his heart that he decided to move out of the house, first temporarily but then gradually more and more permanently. …
Dad moved into an apartment a hundred miles away, closer to the business and his extra evening work. Gradually he came home to visit less and less. Eventually, he stopped coming home to visit ( to avoid rows and friction). We were both growing up fast. Bobby was at university now and I was finished Engineering College. Dad paid the bills for everything but saw no need to keep in visiting-contact because it might spark the rows again. He gradually became left out of birthdays and christmas celebrations, and then his name faded off the various lists of important contacts in our phone books, etc. Out of sight out of mind. Neglected, he was no longer counted as a part of the family.
Of course, we all intended many times to write and make it up with him, but we delayed, afraid to start the arguments again. Eventually he died from a heart attack , before we actually got around to making it up. We only found out he’d died when a distant cousin wrote to say she was sorry for his passing away the previous January. He was a half-forgotten father.
Wihout his restraining hand, mum became over-sensitive about financial security and could never bring herself to throw out anything that seemed to be useful. Dad had always used to tease her that she should be managing in the town’s second-hand shop. As if to underline her waste-not-want-not attitude, there, under the box of drawings was a broken dining room chair with a poorly repaired broken leg -kept “just in case we need it”. Mum had fallen from it while reaching up for some remotely high suitcase. She was looking for the kids’ drawings from years ago.
She had said countless times I must see if I can find those drawings – they’re so cute. We ‘ll enjoy looking over them when Joe and Bobby have grown up.
I’d often try to talk her out of bothering Oh just leave them mum and I‘ll find the drawings next week when I come with the twins…
Mum fell and very nearly broke her back. There was hospital for a long time, then bed rest for months. It changed her life completely. She had been physically fit -- enjoyed dancing and gymnastics. But it was all now finished -- she was sedentary. We moved her bed downstairs to avoid the repeated trips up and down with tea, etc. She became a half-forgotten mother. But the damned chair remained here in the attic.
The painful memories of dad leaving ( and later dying unknown to us) and mum falling and then becoming bedridden made me want to go downstairs and grab another coffee. It was enough to make me stop reminiscing. I stood up and pushed a heap of boxes and papers to one side to make room for the builders to get in and start with the roof windows next week …and I put my foot on the squeaky wooden steps of the ladder down to the real house.
An attic is typically a darkish place for stuff which is not completely finished. Stuff for possible future action or use. It is better examined with good daylight clearing up some of the mystery, and good sunlight and breeze to eliminate the cobwebs of life. Angela would agree with that. I myself have come to the view that stuff from the past is perhaps best left untouched. There is often a questions in many people’s minds. Can we go back and complete each half-finished episode of our life? Start again? Perhaps not. Perhaps it’s best to leave the stuff in dust-free places. It should be put on hold - - like in quarantine?
People always “mean” to clear out their attic, but it’s like tidying up your whole life.
………… ..
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