My extended family is pretty terrific. People I love and admire and enjoy being with.
One of the things that I am very proud of is that when our parents died, there was no fighting. As a group we divided up the tangibles my parents left, without a single squabble.
I lived far away from "home," so my siblings got larger items likes furniture and such, and I was allowed to keep many small things to help me remember my sweet parents and my youth. Jewelry, brick-a-brack, my mothers Staffordshire dog collection... these items are redolent with memories of a happy childhood.
As if that wasn't wonderful enough, in the ensuing years something magical happened. As time went by, things got shared. My brother moved and sent my young daughter her grandfathers typewriter and other memorabilia. My sister commented that she wished she had my grandmothers amethyst necklace and earrings, so I gave them to her for her birthday. Another sister gave me an antique desk that she had inherited when I opened my grooming studio. The "things" that lived on were given and taken and made delightfully communal.
This week, the mail lady delivered a box.
And that is it. Things. They bring us pleasure, and memories. Jeannine shared these particular items with me, because I have a farmlette with a rooster, horse and rabbits. They have meaning because of that, and because my mom treasured them, and my sister and sweet Jeannine, too. She has generously shared other things with other family members when the time was right.
My family is terrific. And there are things here that stay on even after some of them cross over. Things that bring pleasure and memories.
I am blessed.