I’m 71, and my health isn’t the best it could be. It takes exactly no brains at all, to realize I have a lot more days behind me than before me. Every time I look at my layout and the tons of stuff (!!!) I’ve acquired over the decades, I wonder what’ll happen to it when I’m gone. Although I know some people who bristle at the subject, I strongly believe end-of-life subjects, and the decisions that may be involved, are not wisely ignored.
I have averse feelings about denying my surviving family the prerogative of dividing up my possessions either when I’m gone, or if I have to eventually relocate to quarters far smaller than I now own, especially if I’m no longer competent to have a say in such decisions. The fact that 100% of them live hundreds of miles away, and that none of them have expressed real interest in model railroading suggests to me a general lack of interest, except that there may be some financial legacy related to divestment of my collection. We have no children of our own. The fact that I was away from my family for the many years I was in the Navy worked against my being a regular or frequent participant or motivator in the growth and development of my peers or younger family members. Many got train sets as gifts when younger, but Uncle Gene wasn’t often there to exemplify how much playing with them and imagining their expansion could mean.
The modeling community is familiar with stories about how difficult and financially unrewarding it can be, to dispose of a collection, not to mention the difficulties involved in disassembling and salvaging layout parts for reuse elsewhere. Now and then we hear stories of a layout, perhaps well known in the hobby, ending up with a happy forever home in a museum. I love those stories, because I understand that the best way to ensure the future continuance and growth of the hobby is dependent on its accessibility and visibility. My love of the community