attachment

Today, one of my kids said to me "Miss! It looks like you've been gaining some weight..." and then she asked "is that mean to say?" The child and I love each other dearly. "No, " I said..."just sometimes the truth hurts, is all..." then I pretended like I weigh 400 pounds and waddled down the hall with her. Looks like Aunty Daisy is gonna have a lean Thanksgiving in California...cooing and changing diapers for the most spoiled doodle nephew on the planet AND running laps!
Before that exchange happened, I was gonna show you this necklace:

My grandmother gave it to me years ago. There's a bracelet to match. Grandmother A (Dad's mom) received it as a gift, from Grandmother B (Mom's mom) I have always loved this, but have never worn it. I love how it looks and feels around my neck today. I realized that I am attached to it, and other momentos that have been handed down from my grandparents. I have one grandmother still alive. I have a bond, even in death, with the ones gone elsewhere. I think I'd have that pit in my stomach if I lost this necklace, today. And yet, I know Grandmother is right here with me. This necklace isn't her, anymore than that sweet girl's words make me fat.

I never knew how attached to my garage door I was until it broke. This morning I realized that's just not something I'm willing to let go of. But Im gonna try anyway~