A simple old three-drawer oak dresser sits in my entry. Above it is a mirror with flecked glass. It is the survivor of a fire that destroyed all the other antiques in my husband's family--a remnant of days long ago along a railroad track in Groesbeck, Texas.
What would the mirror say it had seen, if it could talk? It saw "Back" and Granny (Sam's grandparents)getting ready for church--adjusting hats, high collars, petticoats, suspenders.
It saw Big Pa (Sam's father) lying dead drunk in the bed across the room. Sitting beside the bed was Mow (Sam's mother), the ultimate enabler, patting his hand and guarding him. It saw Sam as a tiny boy with big brown eyes and curly hair putting on his short pants for church. It probably saw him and his brother teasing their sister by pulling her hair and wrinkling her dress.
Everyone who ever used the dresser and mirror (except Aunt Ruby who is 92) are dead now. The mirror now reflects the people who come and go out of my house. It is where we all go to check our hair and clothes before we go to church--Brandon, Sheryl, Maddie and Ella (when they are here) and I.
"Remember the days of old, consider the generations long past....Deut. 32:7
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