The last few times I have visited mom I have taken some memory that I loved and tried to establish it here in Florida. First was jewelry. My mom and Grandma both were like stores growing up. I would be getting ready for dances for school and run across the street to grandmas and dig in her jewelry box and hunt in my moms. I remember at my grandpas funeral looking at myself in all my drab black. Mom grabbed my arm and we dug through her jewelry and all of a sudden my colorless sad outfit was accompanied by jewelry from my great grandma. Digging in those boxes gave me a sense of comfort of the old days, as soon as I got home I told my hubby I needed a jewelry box to fill w/ jewelry like my grandma’s and moms. When we went down for Thanksgiving I walked in moms closet and seen a walk in room with nothing but hats lining the top. We started pulling them all down, dressing up and marveling at how distinguished we look. Sunday dressing…another comfort memory. We had to take some pictures with them! We decided when everyone was at moms for the holiday dinner we would take a picture of all the women in my moms hats. We had a fabulous time playing dress up.

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