One of the
sad parts of leaving my house was the feeling that I was leaving all the good
memories behind. I would be losing all the girl's experiences during their childhood years, both accomplishments and the trials
and tribulations of being a child.
As I
sorted through stuff I would find a treasure, whether purchased or created, and
remember its significance in their lives and mine. I kept as
much as I could. I would move things around, intent on pitching them, but
instead they would find their way back in the house.
Finally, I took the time to sit with all the
girl’s art and creations, recall their
meaning to me, then what I couldn’t keep
I photographed.
Even the
height charts on the wall!
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