Memories
This morning, my husband said to me, "We need to clean off that refrigerator." I responded with,"This is a place for memories." And it is.
There are things on that refrigerator that has been there since my daughter was in elementary school and then after her children were born. She turns 40 on Tuesday, so that tells you about how long a couple of those things have been on those doors. And I will not do away with them. The little furry dog on the top of the left hand door was made by my daughter when she was in early elementary school.
There is a picture on the right hand door on the bottom that my granddaughter drew 4 or 5 years ago as she sat at my kitchen table. There is a snowman on the left door that one of the older kids made in school. There is a 4 generation picture at the top of the left hand door that has my mother, me, my daughter, and her daughter when Heather was about 3 years old. And she turns 21 in March.
I have two friends who have passed away whose memories are on those doors. One was a woman I sang with at church. She made little fly swats that had a real-looking fly on them. I have one on the door. Also, another friend from Australia sent me several things, one of which was a magnetic map of Australia and these two things are at the top of the right hand door.
There are memories of Bible school when my daughter's oldest son and daughter would come and go to VBS at the church. They would make something and bring it home to me. Well, some of those things are also on the door.
There are memories from bus tours I took with my mother to different places including New Orleans and Pigeon Forge. There is a guitar that I got at the Alabama Museum in Fort Payne, AL last summer. Also Bill's sister gave me the little piano which plays a tune. She had given him a computer, but it got knocked off and broken. She later gave him a Mr. Fixit. It hangs just below my daughter's two oldest children (they were about 4 and 5 there).
There are so many memories hidden beneath the things on that door that I could not begin to throw them away. Maybe they look ragged or perhaps even distasteful to some, but to me, they are precious memories.
I am a keeper if lots of memories of both my children and my grandchildren. When I pass the refrigerator, I can always think of them and what they mean to us. And I know that, when you display what they have made or given to you, it warms their hearts. My daughter has taken after me and has a refrigerator with probably more displayed than me.
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