Closure

By: Fank Coletta (written in April, 1994)

One more long, boring, and lonely trip to my mom’s house in Rhode Island. The drive was filled with many memories, mile posts along the way filled with history. As I drove by Lake Mishnock and Lake Tiogue my eyes teared up as a gush of memories flooded my mind of days long ago. Uncle Frank’s house on the lake and his pool table and trick shots, the camp house dad rented for us each summer, the beach at Mishnock where Liz meet her husband and forced us to search for him, the grove, the roller skating rink, uncle Tony’s barber shop, uncle Frank’s tailor shop, sister Connie’s old grocery store and so much more…each one precious.

It’s been two years since her death and the old house has been a real depressing thing to resolve. Repairs had to be made, termite damage, water damage, and endless painting. Buyers have made offers and then backed out. The bills still had to be paid each month along with good old Mr. tax man. I longed for the day when the house would be sold. Finally, I would be free of this anchor. I always felt like leaving ten minutes after arriving.

My brother Tony and I would meet here regularly to make sure all was well and then go and visit uncle Tony in Cranston for some spaghetti. This time was different. The house was empty and ready for it’s next occupants.

This was my last trip. The house has been sold and it was closing day. A young couple starting out in life bought it. A new generation hungry to build its dream was moving in. The time had drawn near to shut the door and leave. Leave for good, never to return. The closing was at one in the afternoon and now it was time to say good bye and good riddance to a headache. Free at last. Close the door and leave.

But is wasn’t like that at all. It was like burying mom all over again. The same sad feelings came rushing is just the way they had at the cemetery. The kind you get when a whole part of your life is gone, never to be repeated. A part full of love and pain and good memories:

Leaving you first car at the salvage yard

Saying goodbye to high school friends at graduation

Playing your last game

Turning fifty

Watching your daughter get married

Burying a family pet

Saying good bye to your last parent

They all are endings and beginnings. Some joyful…some horrible. The word closure is now used for giving these transitions finality. To put something to bed, to end it, to move on freed from the past…that’s closure. I find this word kind of cold and clinical and antiseptic, especially when it comes to mom and dad. We all go through necessary transitions in life. Many are pre-programmed while others are purely elective. This one was mandatory.

I shut the front door of mom’s house for the last time and said, “good bye mom.” It was over. I drove away with a trailer full of old furniture. I was tight lipped, sad and depressed. Where was the freedom I longed for? The anchor was cut for good but the weight was still there. There was no freedom.

Memories carry their own weight. If I played by the rules, they’ll promise to be good ones. Physical things occasionally have spiritual counterparts. We fill things with meanings only we can appreciate. I drove away with more then a trailer full of furniture that day.

With God’s help we make it through these tough transitions in life. May we keep our eyes on Jesus and not lose our perspectives or direction when it’s out turn to shut the door and say good bye. If you’ve played by the rules of faith the memories will most definitely be good ones with little room for regrets. It won’t just be closure.

Peace and love, think noble thoughts…Frank