Saturday, March 28, 2009


We spend hours sorting through the books, papers and stuff filling Mom's house. Dad died in 1995, yet his books, electronic gadgets, and clothing are still there. She could not let him go. We are unearthing a time capsule of two lives. Each item holds meaning to Mom. She jotted notes to herself on scraps of paper and receipts. We are finding snatches of her days, who she met and talked to. There are letters from family and friends. Photos of young Mom and Dad before the years had etched their faces.

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