Five places, each with a tempera paint illustration of a favorite meal, done in styles that befit our ages and talent, “Mama” and “Papa” and the names of our three children, all frozen in a moment of greater happiness, some six years before. It was one of the old pieces of furniture I was delighted to claim. So, on my first night living alone, I sat at my place, marked “Papa,” and ate my meal, on the souvenir of my family.
I'm crying a little bit now.
