Things we hold dear....

My grandmother died several years ago.

Even though we did not live in the same part of the country,

we corresponded through letters.

I practiced my writing skills on her.

Poor grandma....

I do not claim any ability to write interesting letters,

I only know that I can make them "newsy".

Bless her heart,

she probably spent hours trying to decipher my handwriting,

my train of thought,

or what all those little hearts and drawings

 along the side of the paper meant....

Well,

recently my Aunt, in charge of settling the estate,

let me know that she would like for me to have 

a desk that had belonged to grandma's family.

Whoa!

I really didn't expect that at all.

I was flattered and more than a little nervous

about what it would look like,

where it would go....

All apprehension vanished when I saw it.

 I loved it.

And then I started to explore the inside...

and found that the shelves hidden behind the curved glass door 

rested on pegs.....most of which were missing.

Yeah!! a trip to the hardware store

(a secret pleasure of mine)

Found the appropriate sized pegs,

and some wonderful polishing oils 

and then home for more exploring...

and once I was sure the shelves were 

conveniently spaced,

and the exterior wood was shiny,

I opened 

a drawer......

and found this...

old brasses..

very old scissors,

a sweet little Swingline "Tot 50",

a newspaper clipping with

 a photo of a very similar desk,

screws, bolts,

and two pieces of wood that appear 

to have been broken off of a piece of furniture.

I looked this desk over from top to bottom,

and do not see any missing pieces...

so, I am pleased to know that 

this desk was used regularly,

held onto bits that needed to be kept.

The best part of 

my exploring happened when I realized that

when I open the front 

in order to retrieve a letter,

or write one,

that it still retains a whiff or two of my 

grandmother's house.

Smiles...

Amethyst.......

Amethyst.....

This piece came from my grandmother's house, along with several other reminders of her personality. In a couple of weeks, my mother and I are driving north to her sister's house to pick up a few other things that came out of grandma's house. A chair she saved for me, some boxes of photos, a recliner that may be ugly, old and smelly, but it reminds my mom of her mom, so it is worth the trip....

It is hard for me to see my mother emotional and sad...

This is the time of life where we start to take over the responsibility roles for our parents and allow them to simply live the best they can...

Did I say I hate to see my mom cry?

I have a good bit of emotion surrounding my grandmother's death also, but she lived a very long time, and had a marvelous life. And....she wasn't my mother. So, while it is sad...it isn't too much of a lonely feeling.

I love this piece of her life. The amethyst....

I know that it was meant for me,

don't ask my why, it isn't important,

but it was my grandmother's hand reaching out across the

space that separates us now to touch me....

It is beautiful, like she...

Spring has truly sprung.
It is 65 degrees, and rising. The bird are heavily intoxicated with pollen, and singing their hearts out. (lookin' for love in all the wild places)
The photo is of a abalone shell that belonged to my grandmother, Bess. She brought it home from a summer trip, as a girl. I remember it sitting on her mantle when I would visit her in my youth. Whenever I catch it out of the corner of my eye, sitting so sweetly on my mantle, I think of her. She was gone by the time I turned 19. She had a inner strength that I hope I have inherited. I am pretty sure I have....
Life is such a surprise.
One lesson after another.
Each opening up new insight to the next.
We never really know...
not without retrospect.
I am so very fortunate.