Sean's Room

Sean surveys the damage

The clock is officially ticking and it's time to pack up.

I might even describe it as being very late in the game.

With Sean here tonight and through next Friday, it was time to attack his bedroom.

The room with the yellow walls and a sunflower border. 

My niece Kristy once lived there and decorated it like that. Sean didn't care to change it so we never did.

No-fuss Sean.

Tonight those walls are bare.

The Yankees pictures are down, once put up by his grandmother.

The stop sign -- given to me as a child -- sits on the floor.

We tore through hats and Matchbox cars and Geo Trax and Power Rangers and rocks and gems and stuffed animals and books. 

We paused for dinner and appropriate breaks but, overall, it might have been a three-hour effort.

It's done, at least for tonight.

He still has his Hess Trucks to figure out. He has quite an impressive collection, including a 1976 model that my father gave me. Of course, I wanted Sean to have it.

He was sensitive about certain things, especially items that concerned my parents. There was a glimpse of recognition of how important some things were. Maybe even a hint of emotion.

All along, we talked about stuff. I shared memories of things. We talked about his job and my broadcasting ridiculousness and everything else.

He saw the work he did on the attic last weekend and chided me.

"Are you nuts? I would have come down and helped!"

He'll be helping enough over the next few weeks.

And that's basically all that is left. A few weeks.

I don't know how we're going to pull it all off, especially cleaning the remnants of six decades out of here.

The shed needs to be emptied. 

The workroom.

There's a bed to dispose of and other furniture. A couch. An armchair.

Where does the dining room table and chairs go? Are they going with me?

And there's the matter of the mess in the living room. Do we dump stuff somewhere? A tag sale? Will there be time for a tag sale?

That's not to mention renting a truck and moving me...wherever (fingers crossed).

Of course, I have to keep working, including Brunswick games and Hunt Scanlon responsibilities. I can do some stuff if I'm home doing depositions, like today.

Sean says he doesn't want to stress over any of it because he won't stop.

That is to say, it's one way he doesn't want to be like me, per him.

But, to be fair, none of that concern is for tonight.

It's going to be OK. That's what I'm always told

We plow onto tomorrow.

Another room basically checked off.