She doesn’t know that the jewelry box has her name taped to the bottom, in case something happens and I don’t come back. But she points to the rabbit pelt underneath it.
“Is that from a rabbit?” she asks, feeling it.
“Yes,” I tell her, not sure if she’ll be upset relating it to her pet who died last year.
“I like it,” she says, surprising me.
Continue reading Rosemary for Remembrance