is this the city of angels or demons?

Right now I am sitting in my grandmother’s house, which is weird because it is now devoid of her. My brother, dad, aunt, and I have been going through stuff and throwing things away and remembering passed memories. I don’t know about hidden treasures but I found some old fabric that I hope to make at least one quilt out of (possibly three). I have looked through stacks of old fashion drawings that she did in her young days, before she was married. I have tried on her many hats from the ’50s and ’60s and sorted through stacks and stacks (and stacks and stacks) of old photographs, stumbling upon many candid moments. I think that it is harder to grasp the idea that Uncle Tim is gone than Grandma being gone, though I am definitely sad about both. I miss them…

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