Monday, as I began sorting through the items in my grandmother's house, I was in a state of amused exasperation at the sheer amount of sewing items she had stored away.
Yesterday, I started working in her bedroom. The living room was too full of boxes to move around...I needed more room for sorting. Personal items have a way of sucker-punching you when you least expect it. I am amazed at the amount of tears a person can actually shed.
Today I awake to find an email from a family member questioning why I am doing this now, since the siblings had agreed to wait.
I am co-executor. This is my job.