I have a trunk in my house that was the Little Grandma's. This is
where the best things in my house live. My rabbit and my doll, my Mom's
teddy bear and robe, one of the Little Grandma's nightgowns, a 12" cigar
I gave to my Grandpa when I was small, my wedding dress, one of Zach's
outfits and toy he played with, drawings for a restaurant that Dad was
going to open called 'Robyn's', my High IQ name banner and a few letters
and random things. Without me, all of these treasures lose context.
As
most of you know, Stan's Mom has lived with us for the past few years
and has dementia. She moved in with us a few months after Mom. As she
unpacks her trunk, I feel like we need to give context to these
memories.
So, here we go.
On Sunday,
Bev remembered that her Dad always had life savers in his pocket when
they went to church. The Minister would always ask if "Norm had finished
passing out the candy" before he started the service.
But tonight, the trunk lid is closed and we can't get past where we live, this is not my robe and when will Stan be home.
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