My five-year-old daughter’s head struck the edge of the Christmas table before she crashed onto the hardwood floor.
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Chapter 25 / 27
Chapter 25 - THE OLD CARD
When Lily was twenty-two, I found the original Christmas card.
The one with Richard’s shoe print.
I had kept it in a legal folder.
I showed her.
She stared.
“Wow.”
“What?”
“I was terrible at drawing hands.”
I laughed.
She turned it over.
Margaret’s parcel number remained faintly visible.
“Do you want it?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“What should I do?”
“Whatever you want.”
I almost kept it.
Then realized that was the same habit our family had with objects.
Make everything evidence forever.
I photographed it once for personal history.
Then shredded the original.
May you like
Not because the event vanished.
Because paper did not need custody of us.
