Olga’s father lived with her so she could care for him as he aged. She was working in the kitchen one day keeping an eye on him through the doorway into the living room. He stood up and headed toward her calling out, “Daughter.” (He always called her daughter.) Just as he got to the door he dropped dead.
Olga says she grieved again every time she glanced at the doorway, remembering that awful moment. One day she grabbed a chain saw and, measuring two feet down from the ceiling and three feet up from the floor on this non-bearing wall, chainsawed it down.
The whole wall fell into the living room just as the children were coming into the house from school. “MOM!” they called out in shock.
She laughed at the memory as we both sat looking at the counter where the wall used to be. One sad memory down. One laughing one in it’s place.