When I die, no one is going to care that the really interesting carved giraffe salad servers came from the local craft store in Howick.
Never mind the family history in that it was my dear father, taking himself off to go buy me Christmas presents and searching for things that he thought I might like. And that he had to do that on his own, because Mum was caring in the Uk that Christmas.
And he did really well! That almost means more than what he actually gave me.
As per usual in the older families, Mum was the one who organised presents and signed them from both parents. It was always funny seeing Dad's face when we opened something from him and he had no idea what it was!
Which makes that set of Christmas presents so very special. And no one will know that. Those items will be thrown out, possibly donated (very much my preference!) but there will be no record of where it came from anymore. Just a "house clearance".
I hate this getting older business sometimes.
I don't want to be in my 20s again, but the overall loss that comes with aging is hard.
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