This is a comment by Roger on the post “Lost and Found Life (A.K.A.: Moving is Hell)“.
“I recently buried my mom—my dad having preceeded her in death by 10 years. We had gone through the process of culling much of their stuff as she moved into an assisted living facility, but there were still some things to sort through when she died. Mom was very much NOT a pack rat, so most of what she had left was very functional stuff.
“There were 3 exceptions. First, she had piles and piles of very old photos and scrap books. Talk about an archaeological dig. My siblings and cousins and I had a great time looking through all of that stuff the night of mom’s funeral. It was really, really rich stuff. Second, Mom had some luggage that we were going to give to one of the grandchildren, but before we did, we cleaned out the pockets. In one pocket was an enveloped with a note and something wrapped inside the note. The note was a piece of stationary from a hotel in Manhatten. It was dated 3/8/51—my parent’s wedding day. Wrapped inside the note was a rosary and the note read: ‘My mom gave me this for safe travel on our honeymoon, and every time we travel thereafter.’ Mom had carried that note and the rosary with her all these years.
“Third, and most surprising—we found a tin, sealed with dried, brown, cracking tape, with a had written label taped to the top that read: ‘Wedding Cake 3/8/51′. My mom had held onto a piece of her wedding cake for 62 years! She was a very practical woman. We never knew her to be very sentimental, but at her death, we discovered just how sentimental she had been all along.
“A piece of her wedding cake—through all the moves that she had made with dad? Really? We didn’t know what to do with the cake. None of us was going to keep up with it. We couldn’t just throw it away. So, we buried it with mom. We’re pretty sure she would have wanted it that way.”
Photo credit: Flickr / stevebrownd50