Special people, memories and priceless furniture
By Jerry Epperson -- Furniture Today, December 16, 2001
This will be one of those Epperson family updates, so read it at your own risk.
My mother, now 80, had a stroke earlier this year and requires constant care. I am extremely proud of her progress and her attitude, but she will not be able to live alone as she has since my father passed away 15 years ago.
Like so many others my age, the difficult choices fall to me. I feel so unprepared. No one ever taught me how to handle this, and I never seriously thought about it until it was upon me.
I had no idea how much my father did for the extended Epperson family. He was the advisor, father figure and financial backstop to my relatives near and distant, some of whom I had barely heard of until he was gone. To my dismay, many now turn to me and expect me to take his role. I still think of myself as the youngest family member, but the truth is that I am the last Epperson of my generation standing.
The latest tough decision had to do with my mother's home, purchased in 1956 when I was eight. It's in Victoria, Va., a town of 1,500 in a rural county of 4,000. Everyone knows everybody, but the harsh reality is a 10%-plus unemployment rate thanks to the closing of various furniture, shoe and textile plants and the nearby military base.
After lengthy discussions, the decision was reached to sell the home. A buyer surfaced early, and the home will change hands later this month. So the family now has to dispose of eight rooms of memories and memorabilia.
To enter my late sister's bedroom, or my late grandmother's room, or to go through my father's dresser and chest is painful and brings back many thoughts. Every piece of furniture has a special meaning, and every accessory reminds us of a different event. Finding my old record and stamp collections reminds me of the many carefree days I enjoyed in Victoria. Funny, those days didn't seem carefree back then.
Some furnishings demand special attention. My grandfather's dresser and my great-grandmother's painting had to find a family home. Other pieces, like my mother's Broyhill waterfall bedroom suite, also need a home, as does her Lane cedar chest. None of these were expensive, but to us they are precious.
We all will face these decisions at some point. A real key will be the furniture. Not its function or style, and certainly not its price, but the family values and memories they represent.
Our furniture, like our memories, reminds us of what is really important. We all have had more special moments in our homes than we ever had in theme parks or on cruise ships.
Yet all our industry sells is price. Do you see a problem here?
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