My grandparents kept just about everything. They kept pictures. They kept trinkets. They kept coffee cups, little figurines, and toys. They kept important things and seemingly meaningless things… They kept memories.
It’s not something I appreciated anytime I went over there in the past. But, for almost the past month I’ve been driving home on the weekends to help my family go through my grandparents house. My grandfather passed away a few weeks ago, leaving the house unoccupied. It’s strange and difficult every time; walking around their house with both of them gone. I do find comfort, however, in discovering the things they kept.
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