Today I finally took out the will and took note of the details so I can put aside the items he wants to bequeath: it's going to be much more complicated than I thought.
I pinned the list on a shelf, then stood in front of the work still ahead of me, and just gave up.
I can do so much in one day: nausea comes up from deep inside of me, I feel overwhelmed and depressed, and I just have to leave it for another time.
But I did dig up a table loom my parents had given me as a warming house gift back in 1979. That gift surprised me a lot at the time, because I had never given any signs that I would be interested in weaving even though I did watch my mother do it for half of her life.
As a show of good faith, I had put it up together, but had never used it. And today I unscrewed the whole thing back in its separate pieces. The metal parts are small enough I can throw in the garbage, and the wood parts, which is most of the loom structure, will be turned into firewood.
Today, I imagine that the idea behind that gift would mean some quality time with my mother while I would mount the yarn. Or maybe it was my mother's way of making good use of what was left of her spools of thread, boxes and boxes of them still left unused, but that she will later move into her newly built home and weave some more nice pieces.
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