Memories in The Closet

Those of you who have been reading my blog know I lost both my parents to cancer. While I am cleaning the house to move to Michigan State, I've been coming across my parent’s things. In my mom's movie and reading room there is an old, wooden, cigar box a titled little Dan O'Brien I thought it was amusing the price sticker “six cents” and it's a fairly large.

There is a little book entitled Junior Senior prom and two tassels from 1977 and 1972. I also found a Girl Scout stash with different badges. I knew my mom was in girl scouts but I’ve never seen this before. Also I found a memory book that has a few signatures and autographs from friends including her brothers Randy and Chris and sister Pat. Inside a folder is her fourth grade report card, and I’m surprised to see she wasn’t as smart as I thought, kidding. I can’t figure this one out but there is a little blue and white cap labeled JDC. For some reason she also kept two silver dollars in there as well.[slideshow]

 

I’ve come across many things that were there and I find it so interesting. I know I’m going to come across more, as the house gets emptier.

A few months ago I also came across a Dear Abby letter. It looks like it’s from the 70s. I found it in a mushroom wallet that was squished back in the sandwich bag drawer. When I first read the article it brought me to tears. I now keep it in my wallet so I can look at it and remember.

 

At a certain moment a doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function and that, for all intents and purposes, my life has stopped. When that happens, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by the use of a machine. And don't call this my deathbed. Let it be called the bed of life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives. Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby's face, or love in the eyes of a woman. Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain. Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, so that he might live to see his grandchildren play. Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week. Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk. If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses, and all prejudice against my fellow man. Give my sins to the devil. Give my soul to God. If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.