When I was a little girl I used to love to stare at my Oma's family wall. She always had updated pictures of every single cousin and aunt and uncle I could think of. The wall was quite large and I would have to look way high up in order to see everyone. In the middle of it all was a family tree. It was (I may need Jeigh's help here) a lightesh brown and a very autumn orange. In the middle were two large owls, on a tree of course, with my Oma and Opa's names written on them. From there out three large branches were the three kids my Oma and Opa had. Each big branch had little bitty branches sticking out and little bitty owls on it that had all the grandchildren's names. We even had spouse of grandchildren and their children as well. I used to love to find my name. For some reason I felt so honored to be on that family tree. To me it meant that someone knew who I was and that I was important enough to be permanently painted onto a family tree.
I love that tree. Unfortunately, when my Oma and Opa moved into an assisted living place they got rid of it. If they didn't I would ask for it. I still close my eyes and see it as clear as day.
Because of this great plaque whenever I see an owl all I can do is stare. How lucky am I that owls are current in fashion? I actually saw owl place settings at TJ Maxx. I'm going back to buy them next paycheck.
I don't really know what struck this thought; besides my cute new background. It's just a nice memory that is linked to precious memories that I am so grateful I have. I hope I get to hold on to them forever.