Keepsakes
It’s funny how everyday things we barely notice can become treasured memories once someone has died. This past weekend, a friend brought me a card that Tim’s mom had given her parents for their anniversary. His mom had signed it so beautifully. Tim’s mom was a character, she loved to party, was loud, laughed often, enjoyed her scotch and cigarettes, and lived to be 93 years old, drinking, smoking, and carrying on as much as her small body would allow. She and I shared a birthday; I’m sure Freud would have had a thing or two to say to Tim about that! Tim smiled when he saw the card with his mom’s handwriting, remembering her in all her glory. I couldn’t imagine tossing it after seeing that smile on my husband’s face, so I cut out the signature, taped it to the front of the card, and put it in a little frame, excited for him to see it prominently displayed in the living room. Well, after three days of him walking right by it without noticing, I finally pointed it out… and there wa...
