"Mari gets the words." That was always the understanding. The words, a few old postcards, a bit of lace, wedding and funeral announcements....
Periodically I get the box down out of the closet and sort through it all again. Her journals stand like silent sentinels on the bookshelf, waiting for me to glean and garner a pithy saying, an insight, an occasional epiphany - in between what she had made for dinner, how much rain fell, who they played cards with.
The other day a friend of mine sent me a card that mom had sent her four years ago. What a surprise to open the envelope unaware that mom's familiar flowing handwriting would be the first thing I saw. It gave my heart a start.
How do I honor her memory best? How do I care for these pieces she left behind? When will I be able to touch what she touched without tears?
3 comments:
You're on a blogging roll! Fun to see what you've been up to. Love this last post about Grandma... love you!
Wow, Mari, did you ever hit this one on the head/heart. I have a large box waiting for me to sift through from my mom as well. Will the task ever be accomplished?
We get those next right? Okay sounds good.
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