A ball and claw dresser as a child standing in my room, in the corner next to the window. wit If I

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A Salute-time departure from the chest to the hearse for the last time. Today was for me as a chest-moment their father's two chests wit of drawers and chevaal comes drove the pandtjiewinkel then. I about again for the last time on the quiet and soothe the feelings wit in the dust on my fingers trapping.
A ball and claw dresser as a child standing in my room, in the corner next to the window. wit If I close my eyes I can even remember what was in each drawer. Mother wit also had one. Hair stood on her side of the double bed in the main bedroom. In the drawers were all packed and detail things were sorted into clear plastic bags with rubber bands around. Mostly the already visible content yet with a label on the bag also marked.
Under the glass sheet on top of mom's wit dresser eboya there was a patch of roosgeborduurde. Before the patch, under the glass she sat down all her cards with beautiful quotes. One quote I remember is one of Reinhold Niebuhr: - "God, promotional us grace to accept with serenity the things dat kan niet worden changed, courage to change the things dat kan be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish one from the other" . I now realize how even those spesefieke quote me wore in my life to be bitter against them. Wish she was more resigned to accept things and not the resentment and pain of refuse-to-forgive neatly into an elastic bag not keep in her heart's drawers.
The long cheval mirror with drawer at the bottom was my childhood sniffer place where mother kept her make-up. There was also a blue tin with a picture of a girl and her dog on which her mother had kept haarrollers. On my knees, I sat in front of the mirrored and makeup while I experimented approvingly my appearance in the mirror was studied. Years later, my white Katriena laerskoolkat her mirror with her foreleg gekloude trying to reach and sometimes her other self, to look behind the mirror. Somewhere in the mirror's glass memory image as ... I'm in my matriekafskeidrok; ... I'm in my voorstelrok; ... I in so many of the dresses that my mother with cheap fabric, made love and expensive opoffertyd.
The pantjiewinkelman also the living room coffee table uploaded. I remember how my fantasy villages this table was built. With lego, farm animals, toy cars and cowboys and Indians, I could each time create a different reality.
The low coffee table was long, dark wood with lots of space for drawing, puzzles and beaded lacing. Friends always come to my puzzle because mom has a whole apple box full of hidden wit puzzles wit for rainy days. On our knees to the Monopoly board, we learned to fight for what is right, taught peace preserved for the sake of the progress of the game, learned of strategic planning, learned English reading and learned that happiness is a big role in the life ... Today I would call it rather than grace happiness. It's not fate that determines not only our Father in heaven that I measure our pieces. (Ps. 16: 6)
My old desk wanted the pawnshop does not even have it ... I wanted to tell you that my father wit made it ... The steel legs was from my chair, baby. The plastic bowl-drawers were my own uitvindstel who had to make my father patiently on my insistence work. Later, he pasted a low panelite on the wooden surface, and use the garage as a work bench. Weathered, neglected but full of memories. Precious - but in the way.
Someone once said that a cemetery is the place with the most potential - dreams that were never lived, poems that were never written, plans and inventions that never materialized. A Pawnshop is different. It is a treasure trove of memories wit that did happen, stories that are lived. Some sad, some beautiful. If furniture could talk, what would they tell ...?
Hi Vilnius! I am sitting here at my computer - netting pisserig and that familiar burning sensation in my throat as I swallowed the rest. I also remember my parents' furniture, the ball-and-claw-foot chairs, wit dresser, wit coffee table ... the roses on the material, wit the crochet patches on the tables ... I remember the smells, tastes and sounds wit of my home and I wonder together with you - as could speak furniture ... Sorry about your hurt, my friend. I'm a laatlammetjie and my only sister died in 1993. My father in 2000 and my mother in 2004. I s