Chef Knit Bits

“Help me lift this chest.” She said.  I knew it when I saw it, it was mine.  I couldn’t imagine what it was filled with but I was eager to open it.  “You’re father’s sick of having this in the garage” my mom protested.  Once I opened it, I cringed thinking I could just slowly close it and dump it.  It was overflowing with pictures, letters, cards, dried flowers, and pieces of my past.  I started opening letters.  They were folded into tiny squares that needed deciphering to get into them.  Most talked about boys and summer camp.

I tried to tackle the cards when I came upon a few complimenting me on being a great granddaughter.  I cherish those seeing as how the author is no longer with us.  To my delight, I opened a card and found a five dollar bill.  I welled up with delight remembering how grandma filled cards with money.  Later, I found another card with a dollar in it.  My husband was teasing, “Keep going!” 

The money is mine.  I got it before I fell in love so it’s definitely all mine.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had something so sweet.  Two pressed bills filled with love, just for me burning a hole in my pocket.

posted by: chefknitbits at 01:17 | link | comments (2) |

Comments:

#1  27 January 2006 - 18:59

 

Pleasant thoughts,reminders of grandmother.

cactusandquail

#2  28 January 2006 - 02:55

 

I really enjoyed this. My parents both died within the past few years and I remember going through the attic, finding pieces of the past. I love your last line!

jordanclary

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