As my siblings and I clean and sort my mother’s home, we are discovering gems long forgotten, and articles never-before-seen. A photograph. A year book. An artifact shedding light on memories from long ago. So many memories. Memories of a life lived through the Great Depression, World War II and the wars that followed, plus the assassinations of John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr. Memories of our mom’s father who ran out on the family, and her mother who became very ill, dying at a young age, leaving her and her brother orphaned and in the care of their aunts.
But there are memories of joy, too. Marriage to the man of her dreams. Four children. Five grandchildren. An assortment of puppies, teddy bears, and music boxes. A profound love for Jesus Christ. A love for children.
These and so many other memories come flooding back as we work through the memorabilia, keepsakes, and stuff of a household long lived in. We began sorting Dad’s tools today. I remember using that old heavy mallet and the garden pick. We came across his fishing lures, many of which we recognized from years ago.
We not only are remembering our mother who died so recently, but we are remembering our father, due to our responsibility to sort through both of their possessions in greater detail. We remember, we smile, we mourn, and we give thanks for their legacy.