You know there are a lot of things that make me feel guilty. One of them is that I am not able to help my mom with Grandmother’s stuff as much as I feel I should. I’m not blowing her off, but I am just heavily scheduled. (BTW, Mama, next Saturday, we are on. I think.) I’ve enjoyed the couple of times I have been able to go with her, but it’s not easy work. It’s not hard work, either, but it is heart work. I touched on that just a bit when I told you about the note I found.
See, in between the old issues of Birds and Blooms and the shower chairs, (yes, two, Granddad’s old one was still there, I think) we find things like this:
The picture is of my grandparents, probably taken not long after they married. There is one of Grandmother alone from that same day, and I have a picture of it as well. The bowl in the second picture belonged to my great grandmother. In fact, I have a lot of pictures of people and things that I need to tell about, but the telling is also heart work. And I am just not ready to work quite that heart right now.