I’ve blessed my mother so many times for the care she took to label old photos. She preserved our heritage for my sister Beth and me.
I was only a wee one when my Grandmother died. My mom was caring for her in the old home place. And my only memory is of playing quietly on the floor beside the” lady in the bed”. The one with the deep dimples and the sweet soft voice.
My grandfather, though, lived many more years. He of the hearty laugh and rough but gentle hands, and the endless patience. He was my first ‘patient’ and sat for many hours while I bandaged and re-bandaged any available appendage!