Precious

Only just two years ago, time stood still for just a few seconds as they gave me the message over the phone The death of our mother brought us closer together. Coming from a large family, we always knew we were there, but now we bonded, closed ranks. The one thing we shared for so many years, our family home, needed to be cleared and sold. Painful, sometimes hilarious, excavating little treasure from unexpected places we stripped the house from all its memories. The empty shell remained. For whatever reason I, the ever rebellious child, took leaving the house like that the hardest. I still can’t think about it without shedding a tear or two. Only just two years ago, and this weekend we are meeting for the final task. Sorting out the huge amount of pictures we found all over the house, but mainly in the old boxes stored away in the back of a cupboard none of us ever opened while visiting our mom. I so wish we had. She could have given us names, dates, places. Now we might have to guess who is who.
I will return home on Sunday with my own little treasure box. One day my children will have to deal with these old photographs, of no interest to them, so precious to me.