It wasn’t until after my father passed away that the three of us kids, my older sister Karin, my younger brother Paul and me, were able to divide up a special collection. When my mother died she left behind a fairly large collection of tea cups. She had different colors, designs and styles.
She showed them off on the shelves of her hutch. Karin, Paul, and I handled the cups over the years and had our favorites. Karin and I more than Paul, but some had his attention as well due to the subject matter portrayed on the delicate cups and saucers.
Take a look at 20 photos of Nebraska's beauty. After my mother died, Dad wasn’t ready to part with her collection. He held onto them through a couple of moves.
He even remarried, but made it clear those tea cups would go to us kids when he passed. Dad was in World War II. Mom followed him to base training until he was sent overseas to Italy and North Africa.
He was a medic right behind the front lines. When he returned home, he felt called to become a pastor. That meant moves every few years as different churches called him to pastor.
Being a pastor means not only tending to the needs of the church and the congregation’s needs, but also continued schooling, and denominational conferences each year. Once we children came along, Mom was not able to go with him most of the time. Besides being home with us children, finances seldom stretched for Mom to go.
Though on occasion, they made it happen. Then we kids stayed with friends and Mom.
