Whenever my sister and I suggested something to my mother that did not benefit my mom such as getting a bigger mattress in our room, she would say, when I die, you can change it. Given the longtime resident in her body Cancer, we would joke about her death with more ease than most.
My mom would say how much fun she thought my siblings and I would have going through her jewelry when she passed. “I want you each to go around and take turns choosing one piece at a time.” I asked my sister which art pieces she wanted and told her which ones I wanted. Then we envisioned my brother claiming the Lichtenstein, unaware that it is a knock-off. My sister and I almost put pieces of masking tape with our respective names on the back of some of the pictures so there would be no confusion down the road and let my brother think that he was part of the discussion.
Now that my mom has passed and we are in no rush to dismantle the house, I wonder if my mom cringes when I walk inside with wet feet from the pool. Does she care that my husband puts the knives and the wine glasses in the dishwasher?
As I take care of her investments, I have to remind myself that I am not doing any of it for mom, but rather for me and my kids.