She had been doing some house cleaning. Tucked away in the corner of a top shelf of a closet needed for other things was wallpaper.
Not just any wallpaper, but the paper that had lived on the walls of the bathroom in their home on Grand Street. That had been their home before they moved to Coop City and before Dana moved back to Grand Street and George went into hospice.
It was from a home when her kids were still kids and aging wasn't something to worry about.
Our bathroom down the street in our Grand Street apartment was plain, functional and not to be dawdled in. But this bathroom, happily snuck into during passover sedars and various gatherings, offered a story book adventure into baths and faucets and something more wonderful than perfunctory teeth brushing.
When the decree came for Dana to move the family to Coop City, she ordered everyone to go into the bathroom with pens and paint and markers and crayons and have a ball on the walls that had been kept so pristine.
Everybody came - neighbors, friends, kids, adults - and they scrawled and painted and drew and wrote and before long the declaration, "I want to be an Oscar Meyer Weiner" along with a devastating femme fatale filled the wall.
There was no way Dana could leave it behind. The wall was carefully stripped and and the paper rolled up and packed away. And then as one move flowed into another, it came along, tucked away with posters and old paintings.
Boy Next Door and I stared, maybe for the first time in forty-five years, at one of our first story picture books which just had happened to be on a wall.
When All Else Fails...
Unconditional Love. Unconditional Everything
Sunday Memories: Guest Artist Dana - "If I Bring Forth What Is Inside Me, What I Bring Forth Will Save Me."
Stories From The Crossing
Sunday Memories: Guest Artist- Dana: The Gift That Kept On Giving
Sunday Memories: Two! Two! Two Memories In One!
Sunday Memories: The Boy Next Door