My Nana died back in 2003. I know that’s a morbid way to start a blog post, but trust me, this is where the story starts.
She died quite suddenly. It was April. Good Friday, in fact, when she had a heart attack and ended up in hospital. By Sunday, Easter Sunday, she was gone.
The following weeks I remember helping clean out the house. Things were thrown out, others were sold to the antique stores in town and various bits and pieces went to various family members.
I still know everything that I took from that house, that was hers. I guess you always remember the things that a loved one owned. I have her rocking chair, a piece of Irish pottery in the shape of a cauldron and a porcelain penguin. There was also a cobalt blue glass vase with a tear shaped stopper. But the cat ended up knocking it off my dresser one night and literally smashed it into thousands of tiny sharp blue pieces. I cried all night.
Then there was the pink stool.