Also known as my mother.
I meant to write about this a couple months ago when my mother moved into her new house, but forgot about it until I investigated the contents of my digital camera.
Several years ago while living with my mom, I cleaned out a closet where we kept a large collection of books. I can't recall what prompted me to take on such a project, but in the process, I found a users manual for Microsoft Word 6.0. I don't recall what version of Word was out at that time, but I do know technology was well beyond the version for which I found this manual. I tossed the book onto a pile I'd started on the floor of books/manuals/etc that was going to end up kindling for the fireplace. (note: I'd never throw away a perfectly good book, I was only getting rid of things that no one would ever have a need for again, not even at the Goodwill store.) After completing my task of organizing the hundreds of books we owned, I went to gather up the trash pile and discovered that the Word 6.0 manual was missing. I didn't think much of it, and continued about my business.
Not long after, the manual mysteriously reappeared in the closet.
I asked my mother about it, realizing she'd scavenged it from the pile when I wasn't looking, and if I recall correctly, we ended up in an arguement about "packrats." I asked her to explain to me why on earth she'd need a manual for a program that was not only outdated, but that we didn't even own the installation disks for any longer. I mean, the installation was on floppy disks ffs! Hel-loooo, welcome to the world of CD's mom! She tried convincing me that even though there were new versions of the program out there, the old manual still provided lots of useful tips on using today's program... "I know it hasn't changed that much" she argued. I wasn't buying it. I told her that if she wanted to learn some more on how to effectively use one of the world's already easiestprograms out there, she ought to look at the manual that came with her new computer as the latest version of MS Word was on it. (I guess this would have been around 1998) With that, I snatched up the manual and personally walked it out to the trash can in the garage to make sure it reached its destination.
Approximately two years ago, we were cleaning the house thoroughly in preparation to put it on the market for sale, and I found myself once again cleaning out the book closet. The closet had somehow become a mess again, and a new trash pile had been started at my feet. Lo and behold, the MS Word 6.0 manual appeared hidden behind piles of Dean Koontz paperbacks! Rather than bring it up and probably start another arguement about it, I tossed it out quietly, certain that it would make it to the dumps this time. I should note that we had already been arguing about "packrats" during this extensive cleaning process due to all the other items laying about which were obviously of no use to anyone but my mother refused to let go of. This, and the fact that we hadn't slept much and tempers were running short led to a series of small arguements throughout the few days we worked on the house. But damnit, that MS Word 6.0 manual was surely going in the trash this time! We finished our cleaning, got the house on the market, and a few months later it was sold. I helped my mom move into the house she was going to rent while she searched for a place to buy, and thank goodness, the dreaded manual did not turn up.
Until now.
About 2 months ago, my mom finally found the house of her dreams, and I once again found myself helping her move. As I was cleaning out a file cabinet, I think I heard my mom quietly say "Uh oh." I asked what was wrong, and her face turned a bit red as she leaned past me to open one of the drawers I had not yet started on. And there it was. The damn MS Word 6.0 manual!! Covered in coffee and other unidentifiable stains, partially hidden beneath some old tax documents, but there it was plain as day! She admitted to having found it every single time I tried to get rid of it until she finally hid the damn thing from me knowing my reaction if I'd found it. We had a pretty good laugh, and I couldn't help but take a picture of it as evidence of one of the longest-standing debates we'd ever endured together.
Luckily, this time she gladly agreed to throw it away after having moved a couple times and learning that the less junk you own, the less junk you have to move. I tossed it into the garbage bag in the kitchen, glad to finally be rid of this plague, and we moved her into her lovely new home. She's not likely to move again for the rest of her life, and I have to wonder what bits of useless junk I'm going to find when the dreaded time of her earthly departure comes and I'm left in charge of caring for the house, but I can't help but harbor a quiet fear thatsomehow I'm going to stumble upon this book once more.
Should that happen, I will be sure to bury her with it.
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