In my grand-parents’ old house there is a room where past lives. It is filled with old things, things that belonged to them.
After my grand-parents passed away, no one in the family had the heart to go through these things, so they were brought to this room and left there while the rest of the house was undergoing a very much needed renovation.
To me, this particular room is like a chest of wonders. Old photos, books, portraits, objects and letters are there like old friends, welcoming whoever comes in. Read the rest of this entry »