Everyone had a ball， but the most laughter and tears came over the photographs. My mother had sorted a lifetime of family photos into two dozen dollar-store plastic trays. Everyone chose the pictures that held the most significance for them. There was my uncle’s first wedding （which came as a surprise to the children of his second marriage， who didn’t know he had been divorced）. There were holidays and family gatherings and pets long dead.
We 6）hooted over the fashions and hairstyles. And we couldn’t believe what beauties some of our older relatives were in their youth. It’s hard to imagine the aunt with grey hair， false teeth and a walker as a babe with a Marilyn Monroe figure in a two-piece bathing suit.
There were pictures of my dad and my uncles in their Second World War uniforms， looking so young and handsome. And there was a group photo of servicemen. My mother cried as she put names to the faces and recalled the boys who never came back.
We called to mind family members and friends who had passed away. My cousins and I laughed until we cried as we recounted many “remember when”stories.
It was an incredible afternoon. No one wanted to leave the warmth of a house that had been the centre of so many happy gatherings and occasions. At dusk the food was gone， the sun was setting and we were still sitting around chatting and reminiscing.
I was so proud of my mother. Many people her age can’t let go of the past or their material possessions. That day， everyone took home something of great value—fond memories of Aunty Mary and a 7）tangible reminder of her love and generosity.
My mother was thrilled with the whole event. Her beloved treasures will live on in the family for generations to come. She was also able to offer a lesson on the value of giving and sharing.
There was still a lot of stuff to pack up and dispose of before the big move. We had a contents sale that didn’t make much money， but did reduce the clutter. What was left unsold we donated to an organization that helps new immigrants get settled.