my grandmother loved butterflies, I think

I wore this colorful butterfly brooch today and a friend of mine told me that it was beautiful.  I started telling them that it was my grandmother’s and that she took care of me when I was a baby.  She went back to her home country a couple of years later.  When I was four of five, she passed away.  As I was telling my story, I mentioned that I while putting it on, I thought, “maybe grandma loved butterflies,” but I don’t know for sure.  I hear so many stories about her and she is so much a part of me, but the reality is that I don’t have a clear memory of being with her.  Not a single one.  I felt the warmness of my eyes and the water start to seep through just mentioning her and my little memory of her.  I could feel the other person looking right at me with sadness and sympathy.  The memories I do have and the stories that she’s a part of; those are the things that make all of this okay.  Now that I’m older, I value my relationships and friendships more.  There’s always something tugging at me from all sorts of directions from all areas of my life, so it’s never perfect in my eyes.  Who knew a simple brooch could bring up all these emotions. cnw


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