Still finding surprises in my mother's stuff -- like, drawings (very, very bad) that I did for an art class when I was in fifth grade.
And money. Not a lot -- about twenty five dollars in cash, and four cylinders with coins, separated by type. My wife knew, somehow, that when my father was a cab driver, he would come home and dump all of his earnings on the table. My mother would take it, organizing the change and the cash, keeping a running total of how much he'd made. Which also let her know, though I didn't realize it at the time, when he'd not worked a full shift -- likely spending some of it in a friendly tavern. She thinks the cylinders date from those separation actions.
Funny, the memories things like that triggger.
It is odd when we start down that memory lane.
ReplyDeleteYeah. Even now, I am capable of being surprised by finding what my parents did, or had to do, to run a household. Some of it makes my life seem pretty cushy.
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