Packing Up Memories

It’s an inevitable part of life’s journey: When death forces you to bid farewell to a parent. But as Sophia van Taak discovered after her father passed away, you can find comfort while sorting through their things.

- Nicolene Louw

My father had 34 friends on Facebook, almost half of which were family members. He never posted a photo, never mind a selfie. The only page he followed was of Corné Krige – not because Corné once captained the Springboks, but because he’d been a pupil in my dad’s science class back in 1987.

Dad was seldom seen on Facebook, and just over a year ago, he would never be seen again. Now the house is sold and my mom and I have the impossible task of filtering through his possessions. What to toss out, what to keep?

The more we try to sort through his things, the more we get stuck: “Hey, check this!” “Do you remember these?” “I could have sworn we threw that out years ago!” And, frequently: “Why on earth did Dad decide to keep this?”

Like the jumble of 14 cellphone chargers – and their corresponding phones – I come across in his study…

I’m sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of the corner cupboard, unpacking its contents – a mix of marvellous items that I’ve found fascinating since childhood. My dad’s things, all shrouded in the unmistakable scent of gun oil.

I arrange the phones from absolutely ancient to just plain old: Siemens S1, Nokia 3100, Nokia X2, BlackBerry Torch 9800. Dad complained that its buttons were too small for his thumbs and subsequently switched to a Samsung.