Precious things.

These are the two utensil jars belonging to my parents, which I brought back here with me, having overseen the sale of our family home up in Rawtenstall, Lancashire in November 2009. 
My dad had decided to stay on in the Residential Home where he had been for respite care after a spell in hospital in Bury in March of that same year. (He died in the following year aged 91). 
Then my sister at 56 years old,  had a very bad stroke in July 2009, the same year, and was in Harrogate District Hospital for 6 weeks learning to walk again. It did not affect her speech. 
It was hard for her not to be involved in emptying the house contents during the October and November, but I had a list of the things she wanted to keep, and my brother in law brought her over from Knaresborough in the November to collect them. (all of us obviously having a spare key.) 
I just kept little things like these kitchen jars, as they contain memories of both dad and mum. Mum loved baking. After she died in 1990, aged 70, my dad decided to take on her mantle and he could eventually make small (what now would be termed as) cup cakes. 
He sometimes took a few round to his friends if he went for a visit. 
Mum dispensed "buns" to anyone who turned up at the house. Along with a cup of tea.
I seemed to be constantly driving up and down the M6, which I hate since Matt died there, but it had to be done, and I used to pay homage to him silently every time I passed the place where it happened.
People asked me why I did not take a more circuitous route, but it is a 110 mile drive from here to our old home, and the most direct. 
Precious memories are of great worth, however humble they may be,