A Mug and a Phone

My childhood home was also, at one point, my grandparents home. My mom and I moved in after my grandparents death in the 80's. And they had owned it since the 70's. So I have a lifetime of memories there.

My mom had been planning on moving to PA once she got the house on the market and sold, but with her diagnosis, we had to speed that process up. Since we had flown out to be with her in the hospital, we decided it was best to do everything all at once so we wouldn't have to make another trip. So we packed up, cleaned up and put the house on the market all in one week. While packing, I found it funny that even with all the chaos and uncertainty, little things like a mug and a phone, could bring back so many forgotten memories. These might be odd for me to share, but I'm sure you'll be able to relate, especially if you've ever had to clean out a loved ones home. 

This mug has been a mainstay in this cabinet for years. I think my step-dad purchased it when I was a young teen? Maybe even pre-teen? Either way, I know it's been there forever. When I opened the cabinet I was surprised to see it still existed! And even more surprising was my instant reaction to it. 

Oh how I wish I could have ripped this out of the wall to bring home with me. This phone has a super long cord. I have many fond memories of stretching it all the way around the corner and into the hallway to try and get some privacy while yapping on the phone like teens do. I also remember using it to call my mom in a panic one winter, waiting impatiently after each number for the dial to rotate ever so slowly back into place. The snow was so heavy the awning over the back patio couldn't take it any longer and collapsed in a loud roar. Scared the snot out of me!

The view from the hallway to the kitchen. The phone would be to the right. And the cabinet where the mug lived is the 2nd cabinet door from window on the left. I'll miss this house.

Standing near the entrance to the kitchen looking down the hall where I used to lay on the floor talking on the phone, hoping to catch an ounce of privacy. It didn't really work.