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This cold, blustery November day is the third anniversary of
my Dad’s death. I remember everything
about him, including how neat and precise he was in organizing his things. His desk was perfection, and we called it
Miss Pym’s desk, since he was the one who edited my book and dissertation about
Pym, The Subversion of Romance in the Novels of Barbara Pym.
He folded papers and plastic bags neatly, and even sorted and arranged our garbage. He was way ahead of the recycling movement. He could have been Marcia’s sibling from Pym’s Quartet in Autumn. As Susan Pearce noted in The Collector’s Voice, Modern Voices, Marcia was a discerning and organized collector. She sorted milk bottles, leaving behind those that did not “fit”, and carefully folded and recycled her plastic bags. I have a friend who does this, too, particularly with the plastic bags that encase rolls of paper towels. Both Marcia and my friend creased them perfectly, and kept them in special places. I have tried to be that neat, and tried to crease carefully the bags I repurpose and recycle, but I just can’t do it.
Here’s to Dad, and to Pym and Marcia. We could take a lesson from them about recycling, organization, and life.
