Monday, August 2


My mom and Mona cleaned out alot of stuff that got put in my room before I came, but we never want to fully clean out, so there's still always stuff. Six years later and countless times of picking through their things and deciding what to keep and what to give away, and there is still so much and at the same time it feels so awful that there's so little left of theirs. This is not coming out very well, let me try again. My nana had alot of stuff from collectibles to saved cards, address books, jewelry, diaries,glasses, radios. And when a person is gone their material objects become a sort of museum. I would have filled shelves and walls of their stuff and left it to be if we could have. But this house had to change, we couldn't keep it all. When I find things that I know have already been sorted through and leaf through them, it's a new discovery each time. This was an old address book my nana kept and used as a journal for Mona. She hated school, and my nana used journaling as a way to document how she would change her feelings about school so suddenly, when she found out that it was actually fun. Not only is this funny and precious, but it reminds me of the way my nana would allow us to feel things but show us that there's another way, we didn't have to be stuck. I think that's what she wanted for us, to be free, because she wasn't.

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