The Memory Box_From This Day Forward_The Intruder_A Gift from Gramma
Catalog Guide:
The Memory Box
The Memory BoxRyan dances to the music in his head as he moves around the kitchen laying out the fixings for a sub. At 60 years old he is still limber enough to glide and spin effortlessly around the kitchen but after one too many dips he is quickly reminded that there is a difference between young at heart and young in body. Resigned to just bobbing his head with steady hands he places the top bread onto his masterpiece. Reaching for a knife he expertly holds the sandwich in place as he cuts it in half. He stands back to admire his work before placing the knife into the sink and placing the f...
From This Day Forward
Warning: some profanityThere is magic in capturing a moment forever. It can live outside and independent of the inpidual memory. Yet, those reminders often end up being housed and stored away within books, secured by cellophane pages, and trimmed in ribbon and lace.Because of what happened, we never had a ceremony making promises to one another before our friends and the Lord. We vowed to each other that our relationship was a celebration in itself; we didn't need the "show" to validate our love. The moments I have shared with my beloved are only in my memory. She never wanted to pose for a ph...
The Intruder
“911, what’s your emergency?”“Someone’s in my house,” I whispered into the phone.I’d barely fallen asleep when I was awakened by noises downstairs. Someone had broken in. At first, I’d assumed it was my cat, Ginger, but she was still cuwww.onedoor.ccrled up at the foot of my bed.“Where are you right now?” the dispatcher said.“Hiding in my closet.” I jumped as a loud crash carried up the stairs. Shying further back, I prayed the intruder wouldn’t come searching for me.“A squad car is on the way. Stay on the line with me until the officers arrive.”The sound of glass breaking sent a shiver up my spine. Come on...
A Gift from Gramma
My gramma’s hair is no longer blonde and thick with curls. Instead, it is soft, thin and so gray, it is almost colorless. Her skin has lost all elasticity and is fragile like tissue paper and that tears easily. The flesh around her face has sunken and makes her clouded eyes appear larger than normal. Her nails are natural, long, and filed perfectly, by my mom, her daughter-in-law. My gramma looks shrunken and small in the large hospital bed, her eyes are closed, her breath is raspy, and her mind goes wandering.“Mrs. Charles?” said her physician. He was standing at the end of the bed, holding ...