My mother-in-law, Maxine, was the most gracious woman I’ve ever met. No contest. I suspect Mother’s Day planted her in my heart and she’s been hanging out with me this past week, bringing sweet memories forward everywhere I look.
I’ve written about her up-bringing – the beautiful home she was raised in and the notoriety of her family in small town, middle America. Maxine was raised to be a doyenne, and she played the part expertly; teaching me about social graces, the things I never learned from my mom, Sue, including how to set a formal table. Maxine knew exactly what to do with extra flatware and fancy covered dishes and I keep a few of her favorites close by – especially her berry bowl and crystal candy dish. If I close my eyes, I can see her well-manicured fingers dipping into the elegant bowls, retrieving a ripe berry and a single chocolate truffle. Her afternoon treats, along with a cup of Earl Grey tea.
When Maxine passed away in 2009, Paul – her dutiful son and my wonderful spouse – was diligent about taking care of all of the paperwork associated with the business of death plus shredding fifty-years’ worth of Maxine’s meticulous tax documents and receipts for…everything. But one task languished: clearing out her beloved desk.
Somewhere in the mid-70’s – when it was stylish to shellac warm wood pieces with avocado finishes – Maxine painted her desk in striated green hues. She liked the way the afternoon light showed off the melange of colors and moved her desk to her sewing room – sometimes referred to as the “south room” in her home.
I think the directional reference was a holdover from her youth when her father labeled rooms in their grand Queen Anne not by the inhabitants but their orientation. Thus, there were north, south, east and west bedrooms and although quirky, Maxine held to the same naming conventions in her home. I often wondered what they would’ve done if they had more than four bedrooms…
In the “south room” sat Maxine’s petite green desk beneath a mammoth burlap-covered bulletin board. Today it would be called a ‘mood board’. It was a focal point in the room; where Maxine mused about sewing inspirations, tacking fabric samples and notes about projects, sometimes clippings from magazines and newspapers. One corner was reserved for a rotating display of invitations – to garden parties, graduations, baby showers and church events.
Today? Maxine’s desk sits in our basement and I’m ashamed. Its’s been in the same place – untouched – for sixteen years and I’ve yet to open the drawers and crawl in.
Paul – even though he won’t say so – can’t bear to do it and I know why. It’s the last trail of his mom in our physical world – the things she tucked away with love, her mementos and keepsakes. She was a devoted pen pal to friends and family far and wide and had the best cursive writing I’ve ever seen. That I’ll ever see. I’m mentally preparing myself for what I might find. Her writing, her words.
When the anniversary of Maxine’s passing arrived a few weeks ago, I told Paul I was ready to look at his mom’s desk, but my tone was unconvincing. I asked what he thought; hoping he’d changed his mind about doing it himself but as soon as I saw his eyes welling up I had my answer. He won’t ask directly, but I know it’s my task to take on – and I’ll share my findings with him. What he may not realize is that I’m not as courageous as he thinks I am. Somehow tending to Maxine’s desk will be like the final, final goodbye.
But soon, I think, I’ll be ready. One drawer at a time, with Maxine by my side.
-Vicki 💕
She Was a Pretty House… – Victoria Ponders
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Hi – I’m Victoria, Vicki, Dr. Vicki. I hold a doctorate in Adult Education and I’m a Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC), and author of Surviving Sue | Eckhartz Press.
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Victoria Ponders 
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