Transcript

#59 Etta: When Your Parents Won’t Let Go of the Family Home | Heavyweight Podcast

From Heavyweight · Episode page · Watch on YouTube

· 36 min · 5,671 words · 119 timestamped sections

This is the full, timestamped transcript of "#59 Etta: When Your Parents Won’t Let Go of the Family Home | Heavyweight Podcast", an episode of Heavyweight published September 19, 2025 (36 min, about 5,671 words). It mentions 6 people, works and ideas, including Greor, Heavyweight, Saul Feldstein, Bennett Milton, Carter Burton Gallery.

What this episode is about

The episode explores Greor's struggle with his elderly parents, Eda and Milton, who are resistant to leaving their lifelong home filled with an overwhelming number of collected items. As they approach their 90s, Greor confronts the emotional and logistical challenges of their attachment to the family home, highlighting themes of nostalgia, aging, and familial responsibility.

Key takeaways

  • When clutter becomes art, moving isn't just a shift in space, it's an emotional excavation.
  • Greor’s parents: redefining hoarding as a 'living museum'—the fine line between passion and peril.
  • Eda's zen riddles offer wisdom, but she clings to them tighter than her collection of colorful bottles.
  • Milt's 'non-attachment' paradox: he's a minimalist in theory but a shopping companion in practice.
  • In the dance of art and attachment, letting go takes more than a taxi ride—it requires a revolution.

Who speaks in this episode?

What is discussed, and when

  1. – 5:00: Heavyweight, Bennett Milton
  2. – 15:00: Saul Feldstein
  3. – 20:00: Carter Burton Gallery, Saul Feldstein
  4. – 35:00: Heavyweight
  5. – 36:00: Eta Berlick, Heavyweight

Notable quotes from "#59 Etta: When Your Parents Won’t Let Go of the Family Home | Heavyweight Podcast"

  • Disgust. Heavyweight is back, Mamala.
    about Heavyweight · at
  • He's coming to me with a problem. I'll take it from the top. Okay. So, I have two parents, Milton and Eda.
    about Bennett Milton · at
  • He was an interesting person, too. His name is Saul Feldstein and he actually had one of his eyeballs was like hanging out of his face and like it was like a sort of early commune hippie thing and like.
    about Saul Feldstein · at
  • Gregor tells me that Eta has been offered a show at the Carter Burton Gallery in Manhattan. Eta is an outsider artist, so the offer of her own solo exhibition feels like finally at the age of 88, she's being invited inside. The.
    about Carter Burton Gallery · at
  • FM. And if you'd like your very own Eta Berlick original, her bottles can be found on her Instagram at Eta Berlick.
    about Eta Berlick · at

Who and what is mentioned in this episode?

People

Companies & orgs

Concepts & topics

Full transcript with timestamps

Hello. Uh, I'd like to welcome to the show Jackie Cohen. Byebye. Jackie, bye-bye. Now,

it's a new season. I'm with the new company, Pushkin Industries. And I thought it might be nice for you to, you know, tell everyone how much the show has meant to you.

Can you see the look on my face right now? We're on the telephone. Can you imagine what kind of look I have on my face right now?

Ecstasy. Disgust. Heavyweight is back, Mamala. They thought we were down for the count.

Can I hang up now? But what's this? Oh, with a right and a left. Heavyweights back. Pushing it with Pushkin, Mamala. Bushkin Industries.

Okay, I got to I got to go. Okay, you go with that. Bye-bye. From Pushkin Industries, I'm Jonathan Goldstein and this is Heavyweight. Today's episode right after the break. All right. You ready? You're rolling. You got levels. Moo. Okay. Go.

This is Greor. You might know him from such previous episodes as Greor. Greor is one of my oldest friends. And today he's coming to me with a problem. I'll take it from the top. Okay. So, I have two parents, Milton and Eda.

Eta and Milton are both pushing 90. And Greor's problem is that they refuse to move out of their house. It's the same three-story Victorian Greor grew up in. He was 12 when the family first moved in. He still remembers the excitement as they unloaded boxes from the moving truck or moving trucks.

You know, normal people move with like a big giant 18-wheeler moving truck. I believe when we moved, we had six moving trucks.

One for the family's belongings. The other five for the collections. Some people collect coins. Some people collect comic books. Greor's mother, Eta, collects collections. She has like maybe 200 egg beaters. Antique egg beaters. She has You know what a bisque nod is?

No. In occupied Japan, people bought these little figurines where the head would wobble back and forth.

Like a bobbleheaded doll. Something like that. Anyway, she probably has 2,000 biscers. Then there are the 19th century weaving looms, the handmade baskets, the medieval scythes. Eta Erlick is an artist and her collections are the source of her inspiration. Eta sees beauty in everything and in her hands everything becomes art. She'll sculpt lint from the dryer. She'll put googly eyes on a splatter of dried bird poop.

My mother has been unbelievably prolific in making art for like the last 35 years to a degree where now the living room is like full to the brim with a million pieces of art. and every week she probably makes five or 10 more pieces of art.

None of this would be a problem except that a large cluttered house is becoming increasingly dangerous for Greor's elderly parents.

I I fear the more conventional fears. I fear my mother falling down a flight of stairs or my father. I mean, there's all kinds of dark things that can happen in a house full of staircases.

And so, Gregor wants to move his parents into a smaller apartment, something more manageable. That's his plan. Yeah, that's his plan. But that's not my plan.

This is Eda. The practical uh thing is uh we can't be in the house too much longer. I'm 88.

Yeah. But to move out of the house isn't simply a question of selling the furniture. It's my god, what do we do with all this?

All this, all the collections is what's keeping EDA in the house. And of all her many collections, of all her milking stools and antique rolling pins, it's her collection of fragile, colorful bottles that is perhaps the biggest impediment to moving. By Greor's estimate, Eta has thousands wine bottles, perfume bottles, old decanters, bottles washed up from the bottom of the ocean. As well as being an artist, Eta is a Buddhist. And her bottles are not just bottles, but a series of meditations. Because on each of the bottles in fancy fonts and careful calligraphy, Eda places a message in the form of a zen-like riddle.

I turn my noose to tightrouse and madly dance upon it. Isn't that gorgeous? That's very nice.

But how's about this one? It's a black bottle with gold calligraphy and it has the first letter shows a breath. Somebody blowing a breath. Do you see it? It really does look like a breath is blowing. That's by design.

There you go. There you go. You want me to give that away for nothing? Other inscriptions are, "Stop shleing your old being into the future." Or, "We cling to illusions of control." After hearing a few, I start to recognize a theme. All the bottles bear messages imploring one to let go. Yet Eta is incapable of letting go of the very bottles doing the imploring or much of anything else.

There is a little bit of a paradox or there's something to kind of be struggling with here.

You're very very sharp. That is exactly exactly true. These works which talk about being stuck with the grasping level. I suffer from that.

I could leave tomorrow. This is Gregor's dad, Milt. If the taxi pulled up right now, you would you would jump in.

I'm ready to go. Yeah. I'll stop you there. He's never taken a taxi in his life. But if I pulled up right now, he'd get

Yeah. Uber Duber. I don't get attached to furniture and bottles and stuff. I'll just reinforce that point that while my father may posit that he's a dowist and not attached to anything, he is very much complicit, relentlessly bring home the raw material through which my mother, you know, turns the art out.

When was the last time you brought something uh home, Milt? Yesterday. I'm always interested in what she's doing and I often find the raw materials walking around in the woods or anywhere find stuff. Her only requirement is if if I find something, it has to have what she calls charm.

As for Melt, what he's charmed by, exceedingly charmed by, is Eta. Milt is a poet, and after over 60 years of marriage, he still writes poems about her, rapsidizing about the way she creates art or cooks or the way she dances. Milt says he can watch Eda dance all night. He just doesn't understand her being so chained to her belongings.

I'm stuck. But um I am not coming up with a solution that's any better, am I? Yeah.

You know, except dying. And that's not a solution. No, it's not a solution for Greg. He's left holding the whole thing.

Of Miltonetta's three kids, Greor is perhaps the one most ready to serve. the child his parents hand a to-do list when he comes to visit.

I mean, he talks mean, and that's because he has meanness in him. I'm not saying he doesn't. But he's also a very kind, giving, generous, loving person.

Yes, he is. Yeah. Yeah. Don't tell him I said so. Inaction is a choice. not doing anything, something's bound to happen sooner or later. And to just sort of watch this secondhand sweep around the clock face until somebody's dead is the most passive and weakest possible way to exist. And it just feels like, you know, the Damocleian sword of mortality is coming. And all we're going to do is sit here and watch Rachel Matto until it cuts our head off. And so, because EA can't let go, Greor wants my help in pulling off a most extravagant workound, one that will allow Eda to both keep her stuff and still move out. The plan of action that Greor wants to present to her. What if you don't get rid of your possessions and we make a museum of your stuff?

Gregor explains to me the details. It seems that in the 1960s, Eta and Milt bought a 200-year-old farmhouse with no running water or indoor plumbing. Greor's plan is to convert the barn into the Eta B. Heirlike Museum. Convincing one's mother to downsize by way of a feral farmhouse museum that by Greger's own admission is probably a breeding ground for the haunt virus has all the makings of a classic cockami scheme. But this is just the beginning.

For his plan to build a museum to work, Greor will need his siblings on board. So, as his emotional envoy, I begin by phoning his sister, Lexi. Lexi is the level-headed one of the three, and I want to get her read on the plan. I mean, is it realistic that he'll be able to turn the barn into a museum like that? Perhaps this plan is a bit halfbaked, but I figure I might have more luck getting brother, Dimmitri, on board. Dimmitri's never been afraid of a scheme that runs a little pink on the inside. So, I give him a call. We haven't spoken since I moved from New York, where Dimmitri lives, to Minnesota.

I hate to see a Minneapolis area code. When you call, it makes me sad. Your business doesn't bring you to Minnesota. I'm guessing

it does sometimes. I interviewed Prince for a cover story. Everyone warned me to be very careful with Prince. He's very touchy.

Dmitri is a personal trainer who's kickboxed his way across Thailand. He's also a journalist who interviews celebrities. So I went there, waited all day for the interview

and a musician who had a song go platinum six times in Belgium. Was like, "Hey, you want to jam?" And I was like, "Uh, okay." So I w up actually jamming with Larry Gran and Prince for like 20 minutes.

What? That was one sentence. Before Dimmitri can launch into his next sentence, I jump in. So uh, your brother Greor

Yeah, I'm familiar with him. He has this plan which maybe you're also familiar with. Um,

when I'm finished rehashing Greor's museum plan, Dimmitri offers a laundry list of issues. There's a 99 to 100% chance of getting Lyme disease walking out of your car to the barn because it's high grass, a lot of deer, um, getting poison ivy. There's also like a horrible black mold because, as you know, the farmhouse burned down when my albino baker friend Theo stayed there and lit a fire and the roof and the whole house burned down. And along with his friend Theo's trouble, there was also his friend Sonum's trouble in that cursed place.

My friend who spent 25 years as a Buddhist monk under the Daly Lama had to use a broom to fight off a very large raccoon that was in the house and was like growling at us in like just horrifying terrible raccoon.

But for Dimmitri, even more daunting than the rabid raccoons is changing his mother's mind on the matter. Whenever he's tried to clear space in his parents' home, it refills overnight, suggesting Ed's problem can't be solved by physical means. Instead, he thinks the problem has to be attacked at its psychological root. She needs to learn how to let go. And for this, Dimmitri has just the solution.

Well, maybe maybe hypnosis. It stopped her from smoking, which is probably a more powerful psychological and physical addiction than collecting things.

Eda was a pack a day smoker, a habit she hung on to for nearly 30 years. Our friend who was a hypnotist said, "Oh, I can hypnotize you." And she went into the session thinking, "This isn't going to work." The whole time the hypnosis was going on, she was like, "This isn't working. This isn't working." And then she walked out and never smoked again.

He was an interesting person, too. His name is Saul Feldstein and he actually had one of his eyeballs was like hanging out of his face and like it was like a sort of early commune hippie thing and like

having grown up on TV sitcoms of the 1970s, I'm well aware of the power of hypnosis.

Hang out of his face. Hypnosis gave Fred Flintstone the self-control to stop eating brontosaurus burgers.

It gave the fonds the confidence to jump Snake Canyon on his motorcycle. one of his eyeballs.

As a boy, I always wondered what it would feel like to have my full potential unlocked through the hypnotic arts.

Hanging out of his face. And he was very successful as a hypnotist. Wow. Unlike building a museum, hypnosis requires neither time, effort, nor those awful stansions that snap back with that loud thacking sound that make everyone turn around and stare at you. Fully convinced that Saul Feldstein is the solution to all of our problems and that museums belong in a museum. Dimmitri and I say our goodbyes. We're slating in on part two. Johnny discusses post-talking to Dmitri. Here we go. I need to tell Greor that I like Dmitri's idea much better than his, but I need to tread lightly. From Cain and Abel to Steven and Alec Baldwin, I know how competitive brothers can be. And unlike the Lord or Alexander Ray Baldwin, Senior, I don't want to be seen playing favorites. Do Do you think you're that like hypnotism has a role in this? Well, I hear that like your voice went up an octave when we started

talking about hypnotism and you got excited about hypnotism. Well, Dimmitri seemed to think that it would that it could help.

Okay, so the two of you should go see a movie together. Going to movies is Greor and my thing. Clearly, I'm arousing some jealousy. I need to keep my arguments away from Dimmitri and grounded in the merits of hypnotism.

This whole barn thing as the symptom, but through hypnosis. Why are you saying it with like the weird accent on the word hypnosis?

I mean, do you think that hypnotism has something to offer here? My short answer would be absolutely not. I think it's a waste of time. Hypnosis. Hypnosis. Hypnosis.

Hi, Johnny. How are you? Hey, Dimmitri. Hi. Um, I've got your brother, Gregor, on the line with me.

We've met. Hi. How are you? C can you make the case to your brother? Sure. I just think that, you know, there's no harm. There's certainly no nothing to lose. It takes 15 or 20 minutes and she's proven that she's very susceptible to hypnotic suggestions. So, why not try it?

I agree with all those points. My main feeling is that getting someone to stop a behavior like smoking is much much easier than getting someone to change their personality, which is harder to hypnotize someone out of.

That may be true. I I wouldn't disagree there. Swept up in a wave of brotherly bonomy, I decide it's a safe space to cautiously share my one secret boyhood longing.

And along the way, I I could get hypnotized out of something, too. Yeah, a lot of stuff.

Yeah. And immediately regret it. What do you mean a lot of stuff? I mean, that smug smile they could work on.

We could give you a whole brand new thing where you're like super charming all the time.

Being more able to look people in the eye. Not always hide behind a microphone. Actually, you know, there is, all joking aside, there is a new hypnosis that works on what's called voluntary baldness syndrome where they realize that a lot of men are sort of doing it on purpose.

Why would why would someone do that on purpose? Well, it's just that it turns out that that hair loss is more of like an act of willful insulence often

and a cry for pity. I used to love my hair. Well, if you loved it so much, why did you get rid of it?

First of all, I find it offensive. And and Gregor, chime in here because I'm sure you're equally offended. No, Dmitri used to be bald as an egg and then he willed it back on.

I think if you did at the same time with my mother, we can get a two for one deal.

Package deal. I'm just saying it's science that if you read the New England Journal of Medicine is

with Gregor and Dmitri aligned and friends again at my expense. I set out in search of the oneeyed hippie hypnotist Saul Feldstein. But it turns out Saul died in 2019 at the age of 92. So, I reach out to other hypnotists, all of whom pretty much hang up on me once I explain the project. So, hypnotism is out, the museum is out, I'm stuck with my crap personality, and Eta is stuck with her house full of crap, and Greor is still at an impass. But things are about to change. Coming up after the break, Ed's big night.

You know what that guy said to me just now? This guy told me that I was beautiful.

Well, you are. What's going on here? Gregor tells me that Eta has been offered a show at the Carter Burton Gallery in Manhattan. Eta is an outsider artist, so the offer of her own solo exhibition feels like finally at the age of 88, she's being invited inside. The show with its formal invitations and coat check feels like validation. It's the kind of opportunity has always hoped for, and for Greor, it feels like an opportunity for her pieces to find good homes outside her home. The show opens on March 21st, 2019. Gregor and I make a plan to speak the morning after so he can tell me how it went. When we speak, what Gregor tells me is that things that night took a wild turn.

Uh, do you want to do you want to explain? Sure. I flew into town for my mom's art opening.

Okay. We're here at the art opening. It's a pretty good crowd. Everyone's eating wine and cheese

and it's great, but it's so loud. It was almost like a cartoon version of my mom's success story and that like some stranger guy came up and was like, "You're a beautiful woman.

You're beautiful. Thank you. It's very nice. You're my age." Her ego was buffed from many sides. Everything going great.

Hello. Gregor's dad, Milt, on the other hand, wasn't having as good a time. He spent most of the evening in the corner nibbling on crackers. At the end of the night, Gregor approached him.

Well, father, what'd you make of that? Oh, it was very nice. It was a little bit exhausting.

He seemed like, even though he sometimes talks in a quiet voice, he was especially quiet, like I could hardly hear him.

On the drive home, Milt conked out. When the family couldn't rouse him, they realized he wasn't just sleeping, but completely unconscious. Eda began yelling, wailing Milt's name. He was driven to the hospital where the EMTs lifted him onto a gurnie. The doctors thought he might be having a stroke, but they couldn't say for sure. In the waiting room, Eda turned to Greor and said, "You might as well order the dumpsters right now, meaning you win. Empty out the house because if Milt isn't coming back to it, that's it."

How do you know when the Democran sword of mortality isn't just dangling above you, but actually falling? How do you know when it's time to pick up the remote, turn off Rachel Matto, and finally act? The night, a milestone in Eda's career, was meant to symbolize a turning point, and it was just not the kind she was hoping for. Milt was eventually sent home from the hospital, but his collapse signaled a change for Greor, too. For so long, he'd been saying, "Maybe it's time." But maybe it was time to stop saying maybe.

Hello. Hi, it's Gregor and Jonathan. Oh, and I thought this was a scam call. How do you like that? How are you? Well, I wouldn't be so sure it's not.

We haven't finished the call yet, right? So, what's the pitch? Johnny wanted to dredge up a bunch of painful family issues.

Oh, sure. Why not? The painfuler the better. I want to talk with Eda about the night of the art opening and the way it affected her thinking about remaining in the house.

I I won't be able to stay here alone. Uh either I will become ill or Milt will become ill and I and I need somebody to help me. There is a um new little piece in my head that says things are going to change.

In the aftermath of the art show opening, as Eda's new reality sunk in, another plan began to take shape. One that Eda came up with, her idea is to pair each of her message on a bottles with the right person. In this way, each one will find the right home. I now have a whole shelf full of stuff that I'm now earmarking to give away.

That's something that you've not normally done. No, I only gave very few things away, you know, to my best friend or to the kids or something like that. Uh, very few. Very, very few.

Do you think it's at the beginning of something? Uh, more more of this to come.

Yeah. Yeah, it has to be. It has to be. I take it very seriously when I think of giving a person a bottle. I have to think, would it be good for that person?

Okay, now we're rolling. All right. A few weeks later, I call Gregor to see how Eda's bottle drive is coming along.

So, she called me this morning saying, "I thought of the perfect person to give the perfect bottle to, but I'm afraid it's going to hurt his feelings."

Okay. She wants to give you a bottle. She wants to give. Okay. Well, that wow that's that's really nice. Why Why would that hurt my feelings?

You know, if you give someone a bottle that says like, "I wish like I was present," then it's sort of an implication that you're not present. You know what I mean? It it could be interpreted sometimes as like a sort of a criticism. So, I don't know how you'll take it.

Well, did she tell you what my bottle says? That's as much as I can say at this point. as much as I'm authorized to say.

Even though I should know better, know how Gregor will dangle this knowledge over my head like a cat dancer, my curiosity gets the better of me. And so I keep asking Gregor what the bottle says, which he uses as an opportunity to dissect my personality. All I can say, he says, is that it addresses some of your deep-seated issues.

Despite all your insights about other people, you sort of tend to remove yourself from the collective and put yourself in the position of like journalistic observer.

Uhhuh. When you have these insights, you know, your dime store insights you bolt on at the end of things where you're like, maybe we all need someone to run to that hallmarky nonsense that you tend to spout at the end of the

What a jerk. You you feel comfortable just saying something like that to someone, telling me about my

See, I knew you were going to take it the wrong way. What's the What's the right way to take that?

I think sometimes you um sort of make yourself resistant like, "Oh, I don't matter. I'm just the the fly on the wall to watching the human condition." As you know,

people live and die and suffer and babies are born and old people lowered into the ground. Oh, when the dirt hits the coffin. That reminds me of my sponsor. I think you just you you use this thing to remove yourself from what's actually going on.

Okay. All right. You're like, you know what would really make this thing sing now? Let me just get a shot of you throwing your art off the bridge. That's what we need to finish this. Maybe Greor thinks I'm being too prying with his mom, and this is just an expression of his protectiveness. So, I apologize to him and tell him I'll try to be more respectful. It turns out that Greor has little respect for my respect.

Yeah. Hey lady, I could be more respectful. Out there won't tell you to throw your stuff in the garbage. I'll tell you to throw it in the recycling bin. That way it don't wind up in no landfill. You understand? Very respectful. Like we'll even separate out the green bottles from the clear glass.

Very good, Johnny. Why would you even let me speak to your mother? I don't know. I mean, I thought maybe you could patch things up. I don't know. Over the next couple years, Eta continues to slowly search out the right homes for her bottles. Whereas in the past, Eta was only able to give away a few, Gregor estimates that she hands out about a hundred. During this time, Milt is in and out of the hospital with cardiac issues ranging from fainting spells and high blood pressure to an actual heart attack. But then, in the summer of 2022, it's Eda who receives some bad news. 3 years after Gregor and I first spoke, Gregor phones to tell me his mother has been diagnosed with brain cancer. The doctor found nine metastases in her brain. They went to three different hospitals in 5 days, and the consensus was that it wasn't a matter of months, but of weeks. In what felt like only days, Eda went from carrying

laundry up the stairs to needing to be carried up the stairs herself. With Eda's illness, Gregor decides to move in, the whole family does, into the big packed house they grew up in. A hospital bed is set up on the main floor in Eda's old office and Gregor wakes up at sunrise and sits at Eda's bedside in silence. He speaks with her, makes her comfortable. He tells her it's okay to go, that everything is okay. And I stayed there for 6 weeks, 8 weeks, and sort of did the bedside vigil as she slowly uh died. In those final weeks, Greor saw a change come over Eda. In the years running up to her death, she would say things like, "Listen, there's a rolled up rug in the attic that's worth a lot of money. Make sure that they don't, you know, cheat you out of that one." That was always kind of a sort of joke, sort of real thing. Um, but when the actual room of death and dying was happening, that stuff didn't really come up. It

felt more like she was at peace with a lot of stuff. And a lot of the stuff she told me, she would be laying there with her eyes shut but smiling. And I'm like, you know, mom, what are you thinking about? And she was just just with her hand, she would indicate that she's like dancing by just flowing her hand in the air. It felt like a great death. The words on the bottles had finally sunk in. In the end, Eda could dance out of the world gracefully. No grasping. It's the living who are left to grasp.

Since my mom died, it feels like it's harder to throw things out than I thought.

This is Greor's sister, Lexi, again. Like aa, Lexi is an artist. And like Gregor, she's surprised by how after all the years trying to get her mom to let go of her stuff, she herself is finding it so hard to let go of that very same stuff.

It just feels really hard to like her art. It feel it's like a part of her. Yeah.

But it's not her. Yeah. I had an interesting conversation with my dad the other day who is of course really you know griefstricken and he was saying why do people make art and he thinks the reason people make art is so that they're not forgotten when they die like you do something that remains in the world.

I think of her a lot. Do you still carry with you your mother's love? Do you feel it? I carry her with me. I mean, in the way that, you know, when I experience something, I can't help but hear my mother's voice making fun of me for my description of what I'm experiencing. I might be describing something, telling her about just some quotidian thing in the day. You know, this is a nice sunset, but it would be nicer if that truck weren't backing up. And I can hear her being like, "Why are you so rotten?" You know, "What is wrong with you?" I mean, that that type of thing.

You can try to move your aging parents out of their house. You can treat death like a to-do list with items to check off. But ultimately, you can't control how people live or die. Even after Eda's death, Milt remained in that very same house. It's Dimmitri and his own family that move in so that Milt doesn't have to be alone. And over the next few years, Greor in fits and starts and with disregard for what anyone thinks, continues to work on the museum. only it's become less about a full-fledged museum open to the public and more of just a place to honor his mom. And then one day, Gregor texts saying he found a sealed box in the Victorian with my name on it written in Eda's hand. When the box arrives, I unravel what seems like yards and yards of bubble wrap. Eda had taken great care. The bottle is a beautiful blue, the blue of a childhood toy. It's curvaceious and feels good in my hand. Upon it, Eda laid out her words

to me. I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding. See what I mean?

I do, but how dare she? I'm kidding. Cue the outro music. Cue the dime story in sight. Whether it's to a museum in the wilds of upstate New York or to a landfill, none of us knows where we're flowing. In the face of that, we need to learn how to let go. My feeling about what comes after death is constantly changing. I don't have a spiritual practice, so all I have is a feeling. And my feeling today is that bodies are vessels, just like colorful bottles are vessels, just like podcasts and houses packed with stuff. And all of art is it's all just stuff. And stuff can be beautiful, but it's there to help us get closer to the non-stuff.

Because like the words Eta inscribed on one of her final bottles, all important matters are invisible. Now that the furniture is returning to its goodwill home. Now that the last month's rent is scheming with the damage deposit, take this moment to decide. If we meant it, if we tried or felt around for far too much from things that accidentally. This episode of Heavyweight was produced by Phoebe Flanigan and me, Jonathan Goldstein. Our senior producer is Kala Hol, and our supervising producer is Stevie Lane. Editorial guidance from Emily Condan. Special thanks to Steve Marsh, Amy Gaines McUade, and Sarah Nicks. Our production council is Jake Flanigan. Emma Munger mixed the episode with original music by Christine Fellows, John K. Samson, and Bobby Lord.

Additional scoring by Boxwood Orchestra and Blue Dot Sessions. Our theme song is by The Weaker Thans, courtesy of Epitap Records. Follow us on Instagram at Heavyweight Podcast or email us at heavyweight@pushkin.fm. FM. And if you'd like your very own Eta Berlick original, her bottles can be found on her Instagram at Eta Berlick. We'll be back next week with a new episode. Can you believe it? Back in the saddle, hiding behind that mic. Oh yeah. Oh yeah.

So, I wanted to go through the entire thing just to make sure the fact and also make sure that

the art that your mother made, she put bird poop with googly eyes. Is that correct? She spelled it with two G's. Okay. How many times would you say you were rejected by girls in the dozens? Is that correct?

Questions about this episode

Who speaks in "#59 Etta: When Your Parents Won’t Let Go of the Family Home | Heavyweight Podcast"?

Jonathan Goldstein (Host), Greor (Guest), Eda Erlick (Guest), Milton (Milt) (Guest), Lexi (Guest), Dimmitri (Guest).

What is "#59 Etta: When Your Parents Won’t Let Go of the Family Home | Heavyweight Podcast" about?

The episode explores Greor's struggle with his elderly parents, Eda and Milton, who are resistant to leaving their lifelong home filled with an overwhelming number of collected items. As they approach their 90s, Greor confronts the emotional and logistical challenges of their attachment to the family home, highlighting themes of nostalgia, aging, and familial responsibility.

What is mentioned in this Heavyweight episode?

6 people, works and ideas are mentioned, including Greor, Heavyweight, Saul Feldstein, Bennett Milton, Carter Burton Gallery, Eta Berlick. Each one on this page links to its own page with every episode that mentions it.

How long is "#59 Etta: When Your Parents Won’t Let Go of the Family Home | Heavyweight Podcast"?

The episode runs 36 min; the transcript is about 5,671 words in 119 timestamped sections.

More from Heavyweight

About this transcript: the episode's spoken words as captioned on YouTube, split into timestamped sections. Reclip.Me locates every person, work and idea in the text, keeps the time it is first named, and quotes the words around it verbatim. Last updated January 24, 2026.