One box held the china my grandmother had hand painted when I was a little girl. I remember grandma sitting at a card table painting these pieces of china. The intricate flowers and gold rims are beautiful and I marvel at how delicate and lovely these pieces are. I am so very happy to have these here with me. I have several pieces of my Aunt Ellie's art that I can finally pass on to her daughter. There have been too many years of hoarding and greed, it is time to share the wealth.
Ashleigh is coming here today to help go through the boxes. I am grateful for her help. There so many wonderful memories that I want to pass on to her, Aly and Avery. My hope is that the two of us can go through the boxes and sort everything out and move on. Even as I write this, I find myself crying. Some of the tears are for the blessing of having some of my family's heritage that I can pass on to my children and my cousin and her children, and I am relieved. The other tears are for the mess that my Dad has created that is ripping apart parts of the family. My sisters and I are all victims of a man that thought only of himself. Some of these wounds will never, ever heal.
With that in mind, I find (in my sorting of my mom's papers) cards to my Mom from my Dad and photos of them together that tell a different story then the one we are living now. There is no way to ever understand who he really was or why in the last months of his life he did the things he did. We are still trying to work through all the legal webs that are stretched in front of us and each day a new strand is cast out to catch us. This sadly will be his legacy. Not the fond memories or the love, mainly the anger and sadness of his decision making that went terribly wrong.
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