My eight-year-old imagination was spinning. What would it be like to be her?
Mom and I were cleaning out the downstairs closets. It’s amazing how many blankets one family can collect over the years. Blankets and books, suitcases and sleeping bags… and keepsakes.
This was where my mom kept her most prized possessions. There were baby books and baby booties, and matching mother-and-daughter dresses that she sewed for us when I was little. There were boxes of slides from grandparents that we would occasionally pull out for hours of stories and giggles.
And there were keepsakes from their wedding—treasures that had safely traveled between houses, cities, and even nations. Keepsakes, such as…
* Her wedding dress, enclosed in a garment bag to keep it clean and protected from pests.
* Photos, safely secured in boxes to protect from breakage and sunlight.
* And the top tier of their wedding cake, enclosed in glass to protect from dust, accidental knocks, and little fingers who thought it would taste good. (In case you were wondering, it doesn’t taste that good.)
All of these treasures and more were saved for one reason and one reason only…