Love Never Dies
I just have to share to all of you what happened to me this weekend!
My children, who are 24 and 21, were home for the holiday weekend, and we were taking advantage of our time together to, of all things, clean the house. My daughter, the oldest, is about to move to California, and we all decided it would be a good time to purge purge purge anything that we didn’t need anymore. Years of living in the same house, we have so many things in it that we have not used in a while or have forgotten.
My job was to clean out the smallest room of the house, which has had many incarnations, including nursery. It is still wallpapered with Boynton farm animals (at least until the painter comes tomorrow), and when I am in that space, I feel like I could sit down and rock a baby to sleep, 20 years dissolving in an instant.
In that room, I have stored what I consider to be “my” bookcase. I have had the bookcase for my whole life - it was in my college dorm room. There were a number of books in it to throw away, but that bookcase also has a secret little stash which includes a letter my mother wrote to me when I was in college. That letter is so wise that I have shared it with many friends who might benefit from her wisdom. It is one of my most precious possessions, so I naturally looked for it. The treasure, however, was next to that letter, folded up, a newspaper article, or, really, an essay that had been in the Hartford Courant magazine. I can't tell you the exact date, but I do remember my mom giving it to me - either when I was married or when I had my first child. At the time, I thought it was cute and sweet, and I filed it away. This essay is a briliant reflection by a father about the fleeting feeling of his daughter’s childhood and spoke directly to me this weekend, as I was in the nursery, preparing to send my own daughter across the country in just a few weeks.
My mother died 22 years ago, before my daughter was 2 and she never knew my son. I can’t describe how it felt to have a message from her come to me - 22 years later. An article that I thought was sweet enough to save for some reason, but now shows me that she and I are still so deeply connected.
Copyright 2019 Nancy C Murray
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