Joyful Memories

Believe me friends when I tell you that as you age you will experience more arthritis in the body and more clutter in your surroundings. I am determined to accomplish a clean and organized garage this spring. I have been making this statment for three consecutive years and I am going to get it done this spring. My wife and I have been hoodwinking ourselves with the claim of holding a garage-sale. I'm no longer interested in that objective. I'm tossing or giving to The Salvation Army. I'm kinda looking forward to tackling the garage clean up project, perhaps I shall find a surprise or two; even a memory.

Yesterday, I was busy going through personal file in my office looking for specific photos that might compliment passages in a book I recently finished when I came across some 'stuff' my mother gave me a year or so before she died. The stuff was in a photo box of hers. As I rummaged through the contents, I saw a number of family members' newspaper obituaries. After reading them , I discovered I old news clips of family obituaries; they all seemed older back 'then.' In the box was a couple of very dated men's wallets. Both wallets had belonged to my mother's father, E. V. Bennett. Inside each wallet was a driver's license belonging to Grandpa E.V. One billfold held a note from my mother, which read: "Dad handed me this wallet the day he was taken to the hospital experiencing chest pains. The house key and dollar bill were in the wallet." That moment occurred  sixty-years ago this coming May. Grandpa died after a three day hospital stay.

Also in the box was a hotel receipt. Again, mother's note explained the artifact. The receipt was from  the Jefferson Hotel St. Louis, Missouri for a one night stay on October 16, 1937. The room cost was $4.00 with .09 tax...total bill $4.09; for my parents' honeymoon night. I also came across two 50th Anniversary Photos: one was that of my mother and father and the other was my maternal grandparents E.V. and Mammy Bennett...I attended both celebrations. Great times. Doesn't seem 'that' long ago.  As I continued my searching for more photos, I felt a bit of warmth and realized that a precious memory is a joy forever.
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Memories Are Made of This