An Anniversary of Sorts

Apologies for writing a different type of post today.


Today is an anniversary I wish I didn’t have. My beloved mother died 18 years ago at the age of 65, riddled with melanoma. She was a kind, generous, sensitive woman with flawless skin and a sweet smile and I miss her all the time. Still.

Yes, life has gone on. It does somehow. We all muddle through grief, don’t we? There are tears, rants, prayers and more tears. Eventually there is healing of a sort and the gaping hole scars over. And life goes on, but it is not the same.

When I think of my mother today I know she would adore her grown granddaughters. She would be happy with how my life has turned out and get a kick out of what I’m doing today–buying and selling vintage things. Though to be honest she’d be shaking her head at some of the things I buy! I was planning on highlighting the things my mother would have thought were ridiculous, but I didn’t want to turn this into a post about the stuff I’m selling. Not today. Instead I will show you a few of the things I inherited after she died or she gave me as gifts. Things I know you will appreciate.


I love mom’s fab ’50s mink jewelry set, but I have never worn it. I really should, maybe with a little black dress.

This hefty poetry anthology was one my mom used in college and has her notations by some of the poems. I sometimes use it as a photo prop!

My mother started this silver charm bracelet for me when I was 10 years old. I was enchanted. The last charm she gave me was in ’92 when I got my master’s degree. She had it engraved.

These old etched green wine glasses once belonged to a great uncle. Then my parents. After mom died, my dad gave them to me. I lugged them back on the plane in a cardboard box with a string handle. I looked like one of the Beverly Hillbillies, but I didn’t care. I still use these glasses from time to time.

So today, will be reflective sort of day. I will look at old photos. Let my mind wander back to the past. Cry a little. But mostly be grateful for the mother God gave me and the years we had.

Happy hunting,

Karen

4 comments

  1. I’m sorry for the sad day, I know that feeling.
    Pain will lessen but not go away.
    Simply, there’s a hole in our hearts and that can’t be mended.
    As we can’t talk or saw them, we treasure anything that remind us of them, like a proxy.
    Hugs

    Liked by 1 person

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