This past weekend after my grandpa’s funeral, the entire family went through his house taking anything we wanted. There was only thing I had my eye on. This fantastic mushroom painting. It’s not that it is visually stunning or painted by a family member or anyone notable. I wanted this painting because it was a fixture in my grandparent’s house. It had been there as long as I can remember. I mean look at how my grandma used to decorate it when we were little. Amazing. I was surprised no one else wanted this painting. I know everyone took something that means something special to them that might not hold the same meaning for anyone else. This painting is my something special. Others may see it as just another piece of garbage they need to get rid of before the house is sold, but when I look at at it, I feel all the warm fuzzy feels. To me, it is a symbol of my grandparents’ home, their love, and all of the wonderful memories I have of being there. When we got back home, and I had this beauty in my possession, my husband, who also recognized its awesomeness (true love, right?), put it up on our wall within minutes of us walking in the door. It looks perfect. As if it has always been there. The mushroom painting will now be a part of my children’s childhood memories, and hopefully, when they look at it in their adulthood they will also feel all the warm fuzzy feels. Maybe I will even decorate it during the Christmas season just like my grandma did.