I finished for the day and was taking a break in front of a cozy fire with a well-earned cup of coffee. My mother didn’t like earthen ware coffee mugs and all her cups were china. She had a particular affinity for English china cups. Definitely not my taste for a coffee cup but I did not have a choice in her house. It had been an exhausting day sorting through all of Mom’s possessions. My daughter had offered to help but she would not be arriving for another 2 days. My mother was nothing like a hoarder and had downsized once already when she moved into the cottage after Dad died. It was just that many of the things had memories attached to them. It is taking me a long time to go through them because a memory or feeling would be triggered and I’d get lost in a reverie. The photos were the worst. Like the one of me in Tuscany when I was away with a study abroad class. Mom said the photos were almost unreal, like a movie set. She did not know how real it was. This was where the love of my life died.
This post is for Flash Fiction For The Purposeful Practitioner Week # 2 hosted by Roger Shipp. You can learn more about the rules by clicking on the link.
Notes Tied On The Sagebrush 
My parents never downsized. They lived in their house since 1970. I’ve been trying to organize photos into boxes. The old ones can really get a hold on me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The memories can really bring up the emotions for sure. I have a big box of photos and I need to get them organized but I it takes me a long time to go through them because I have to stop and remember.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I understand. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
This sounds like non-fiction. Regardless, it is lovely.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well parts of it could definitely be real life and I was imagining a scene from a life. Thank you, Susanne.
LikeLike
When I was sorting through the artifacts my parents left, it was as if I were returning to the child I used to be. Those moments captured in the photos were the most poignant. It took much longer to close our family home than I’d expected. I think I just didn’t want to let go of those memories until I absolutely had to. BTW, I admire your mom for not succumbing to pottery cups. There’s something lovely about the feel of fine china.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know we had a lot of stuff to sort through here so we don’t leave such a problem for our kids. I think we all assume it will not take as long as it does to go through personal belongings and photos. This story was a fictional one with only a few parts of my life. I was responding to the photo prompt of the tea cup. I think my story seemed real to some readers because it could very well be real. Thanks, C Lee. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
It merits a story, Deborah. So many of us can relate to it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, C Lee. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person