Despite the fact that we weren't sure there was much we genuinely wanted, the idea of going back into the farmhouse for the first time in years was kind of exciting. During the drive there we kept saying things like, "remember this" and "remember that." The Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books in bookshelf upstairs. The giant 'Helen of Troy' hairdryer. An ancient exercise belt massager.

Julie: As a kid it was so fun to sneak through the house and see what was in all the drawers. I think I know where everything in that place is.

But when we got there everything was already packed up. Kenny's daughter, anxious to start moving in, had boxed "everything" up and moved all the dressers into one room. There was no way to know what was where, and more importantly... what was there at all.

Well... many things were obviously gone. Grandma's newest microwave was replaced with her older microwave. The beds were gone. A giant framed picture was gone.

Julie: Where are the TVs?
Kenny's Daughter: Oh... the one in the kitchen broke and the one in the living room they brought to Grandma in the nursing home.
Julie: She has a small TV in the nursing home. We just saw it. The one in the living room was big.
Kenny's Daughter: I don't know.

Most importantly, the little treasures, tiny things of no value that we may want for sentimental reasons would prove nearly impossible to find without digging through each and every box. A glow-in-the-dark Jesus on a cross. Two plush monkeys, that I used to play with when visiting my great grandfather in his nursing home, making them hug and unhug each other with their velcro arms. Were they still there at all?

Me: Uh... were there... in Grandma's dresser... she said there were a bunch of my old... things I'd written. Do you know where those are?
Kenny's Daughter: Not really.
Me: She said they were in the bottom drawer of her dresser. In her bedroom.
Kenny's Daughter: Didn't see them.
Me: There weren't any... papers in there?
Kenny's Daughter: Tissues, maybe.

The rooms looked empty and sad.

There was a pile of empty lock boxes and filing cabinets sitting on the basement floor.

Most of the boxes were in the front room but the fancy china was boxed up and placed way up in the attic. "I thought I was being helpful by boxing all this stuff up," my cousin said, "but maybe not."

Julie: I decided not to respond to that one.