A diary of marriage, parenting, life in the tundra, and Golden Retrievers.
I'm not a person who really likes figurines. I find that they look cluttery. Plus, I'm a klutz, so they tend to break. That said, I do own a few that I cherish.
My Mom gave me this the last time she stayed at our house. She wanted her grandchild to have a guardian angel.
I was devastated when I came home from work one evening to discover a note from the cleaning service. The cleaning person had been dusting a shelf in Murray's room, and the angel fell off. As a result, the angel's wing suffered some damage.
My sister, Maggie, gave this one to me as a Mother's Day gift in 2007, my first "official" Mother's Day.
We were shopping with our Mom. She noticed me admiring it, and when I wasn't looking, she purchased it. I'll never forget the giggles the three of us shared that day.
Mags also bought us this last one, which I love, love, love. It used to look like this:
It was a gift from her after Murray was born. She was one of the first people to hold Murray. Every time I look at this, I remember her cradling a swaddled Murray whispering, "Hello, peanut."
Now it looks like this:
I dropped it once, Craig dropped it once, and this last time, Rudy's tail is responsible. Sadly, I can't find a replacement online. The good news is, we have all of the pieces and super glue does amazing work.
I think they're all beautiful, even with cracks, imperfections, and broken wings. Each one has a story, sweet reminders of acts of love and kindness.