Memory boxes…

On Saturday I finally tackled a task that took me almost two years to face; going through the boxes of Mum’s belongings which the carehome handed over after her death.

Covid restrictions meant that I couldn’t pack up her things myself, or even collect them from reception - staff had to bring them out to the carpark to be loaded into a friend’s car.

I had a rough idea of some of the things that would be inside those half dozen boxes - shoes, clothes, spectacles - but was hazy on the rest of what might be there. Most of her clothes are bagged up for charity, items like shoes and slippers had to be binned, but I’ve kept a handful of items, including this chap.

Mum loved owls and had many ornaments and pictures of them. The practicalities of carehome life meant that this was one of the few such items it was safe and sensible for her to have when she moved into a nursing home. He’s now perched on my dressing table.