October is Over, and Coins

Dividing the Jewelry

My sister wanted to divide my mother’s jewelry on the day Mom died. I mean, the actual evening of the very day, October 30, 2004. I was furious with her for even suggesting it, but she’d first started asking about it on the way up to see Mom. As far as we knew, we were just going up to see our mother in the hospital. We were unaware that this would be the last day of Mom’s life.

On the drive, my sister let me know that she wanted a diamond and emerald ring Mom won in a contest. I wanted to lash out, to shame and excoriate her for even talking about something like that. But I stayed calm.

This was an opportunity, I decided. I could freak out, or I could actually take a moment to calm down and consider what I wanted of my mother’s. After a beat, I said that was fine, if I could have Mom’s wedding set. And that evening, I took it, along with Mom’s watch and a couple of bracelets. I didn’t want them. I wanted Mom, but I knew if I didn’t take what I wanted, my sister would take it all and sell it.

I was right. I had my mother’s diamond put into a new setting, and I wear it every day. The contest ring is gone.

More Division

My dad was anxious to clear Mom’s stuff, but he didn’t want to do it. The rest of this painful dividing up fell to us, and happened after the funeral. We all went back to the house and go to work on the clothing. Once we finished with that, my sister started sniffing around the kitchen, looking for a specific plate that had either flies or bees around the edge, something Mom won at a farm auction in South Dakota in the 1960s.

Dad told us that our younger brother had taken it. “He took that and her rolling pin and the coin collection.”

My sister’s eyes flashed. “I don’t know,” she said in a prim, warning voice. “There were some valuable coins in that collection.”

I shrugged. “Good. I’m happy that he has something of value.” My sister pressed her lips together and said nothing more. This was probably a good thing because I’d have let her have it. I was furious. But that was nothing new. I was furious with my sister around Mom’s death, and it’s true that she could be impossible, but it is also true that I needed to be furious with someone and my sister was an easy target. My brothers and I were so stunned with grief that we could barely function. My sister was not. She was strangely gleeful, and I couldn’t stand it.  

Hence, furious.

Other Divisions

But back to the coin collection. Mom had saved coins her entire life, but I sincerely doubt that there was anything valuable in there. If Mom had coins of actual value–those old silver coins with Lady Liberty on them–she’d pawned them. But she still saved coins of perceived value, even if the only perception was her own.

There was something special about going through my change, looking for something Mom would want. I saved half dollars, old nickels and wheat pennies in a special place and took them to her on my frequent visits. Mom accepted with a gleam in her eye, then squirrelled away the coins. I found this delightful.

Mom also saved coins from wherever she went in Europe. Most of those coins weren’t worth much more than face value, but they meant something to Mom. Value and worth are two different things, aren’t they? She liked the acquisition, and I liked the giving. And that was definitely worth something. 

October Coins

Mom died 21 years ago. Things were so much different with my sister for more than half of those years. I gave up being furious with her, and she gave up resenting me for being born. There was a new generosity in her heart once her meds were balanced and she was sober. I loved it.

We gave to each other. I gave her money quite often, and gift cards, and rides. I took her thrifting and to lunch and I even took her to Bonnie Raitt a few months before she died. She gave me small things almost every time I saw her. And she gave me the greatest gift she ever could, which was her sobriety. It was what I wanted most from her.

After forty-five years of drinking, my sister would have celebrated fifteen years of sobriety on October 1^st of this year. I told her that I’d like to go to a meeting with her to see her get her fifteen-year coin. Now, that would have been a coin of real value. She was so excited to share this with me.

Sweet sister, sweet mother. Two of the most difficult women who ever lived, and also two of the most delightful. I am thinking of them both, and missing them terribly.