When my mother died we all gathered at our childhood home to clean.
We learned many things those few weeks.
We laughed.
We cried.
We moved on.
We also took home some of my mother's things.
To remember.
To stay connected.
To Love.
I took some of my mother's books.
She loved to read.
She passed on that love to read to me.
But these were not that kind of books.
They were vintage books.
These were books for decorating.
I have many different colors, blues, greens, browns, blacks and reds.
I choose a color for each of the seasons.
Books look wonderful all piled up
Books, lovely to look at all piled up.