Fenny still had some of those drawings tucked away in an envelope, hidden in a box with her wedding photos and Mother’s Day cards so dearly prized that she dared not take them out and handle them any more.
God, way to humanize her, to the point where I know she’s dead, but I want her to of had what the lie promised.
I thunk we all have lost friends/family or lost wishes, dreams, that we put away in a box, mental, real, likely both and some to the point it’s hard to look as to acknowledge them too much brings everything back to the surface and once you dredge things back up, it’s hard to put them back down to rest.
