The past four days I've been moving my grandmother who's 99 years young,
out of her house of 50 years.
A Real Time Capsule.
50 years of magazines, papers, boxes, bits&bobs, fabric, clothing.
most, magically preserved in a weathered garage.
dust-dirt-spiders-dust-mice-more dirt-wasp nests and more, oh my!
a private woman who kept nearly everything in her lifetime was cause for
mountains of trash and a houseful of donation.
We were all emotionally raw, watching pieces of furniture you knew so well be thrown onto a pile. Men searching rooms for
'the most valuable pieces'
my grandmother sat uneasy while observing
the violent act of memories being discarded.
Tears fell, but gems were rescued, our hearts and bodies ache.
To the best woman I know....
we must remember, they're just things.
Everything will be alright.
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