Care Package

The twinge of fever hit mid-day, but it wasn’t until supper that I found myself unable to get warm. Banished to a guest room my first night into the underworld of the flu was a long and lonely one. However, as this is 2011, and our smart phones connect us through Facebook and Twitter and Email, my mother, despite being 1500 miles away, heard I was ill and called the following morning to get the story firsthand. As I was unable to talk, my mother quickly resorted to email and informed me a care package would be overnighted that very afternoon.

Heirlooms

        As a child, nothing held mystery like my mother’s dresser drawers. They housed finery only a grown woman possessed. In the top drawer, the one she opened when dressing to go somewhere very fancy my one ‘real’ piece of jewelry, a golden bangle, lay safely in its square white box. My paternal grandmother passed the heirloom on to me, as the first Miss Donovan, while I was still a young child and while she was still very much alive, although long a widow. 

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