My wife and I are sorting through the detritus of our years together, trying to decide what we can toss or what we should take to the thrift store. The task is driven by the notion we might sell this old barn of a house and move into something smaller. I mean, isn’t that what people do as they approach old age?
It’s a fits and starts kind of job because of the rediscovery of cupboards, boxes and storage tubs filled with leave behinds, things our numerous grandchildren left with us for safekeeping. Like a porcelain hand print made at school, and a heart shaped frame embracing a school photo, crayon drawings, school worksheets, a school-made clay pot for flowers…sentimental things. Some bring laughter and some bring tears. And I have a renewed understanding of why we have all of these things. They tie each child to us, their grandparents. And it’s their subconscious way of saying, “This means I get to come back.”
God bless them all.