I didn't realize how much of my house is an ode to my grandmother until she died.
Today, after writing her obituary and helping my parents bag her clothes and shoes, I walked through the door to find my china cabinet screaming her name - from the two sets of Lenox china I inherited from her and my grandfather, teacups stacked, to the fawn figurine that looks like something she and my grandfather might have had in their living room on Windsor Drive. In the bedroom, very near the bed, is her embroidered stool. On my refrigerator...
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
