Happened to me recently. True story.
All I was doing was working on cleaning the office to get the house ready for two canine inhabitants.
Todd was working on de-cluttering the basement (and did a super-fab job at it) and I wanted to get the office organized in such a way that I could also use the space for ironing and other such laundry-related tasks.
There is tons of paper and general crap in the office that either needs to get shredded, tossed or deposited (I have some checks from student loans that need to get in the back pronto). I figured there were probably also things in there that needed to be kept, most likely from the wedding. I still need to find a nice cedar-type box to keepsake all that stuff (there’s so much!).
What I absolutely did NOT expect to find was a birthday card from my Grandma Stoddard.
It could have been anything, but no…it had to be the very last card she ever sent to me.
I don’t normally keep bday cards for an extended period of time.
So why this one? It’s not like I KNEW it would be the last one…my birthday is in May… she passed away in September. I guarantee that I’m not weirdly prophetic (I’d have a lot of angry family members if I were haha!)…
And so I let myself cry. Just for a moment. I’ve pretty much processed her death and I had a nervous breakdown the day after the funeral that Todd can attest to as he was there to witness the insanity.
It was just a bit much to find that one birthday card after all this time.