Well, she did the most hurtful thing she could do. Her and who knows who else? The people she continues to defend. . . Shane? Hollind? Eden? Catie? I will never know. We had very little in our house to move yet . . . and two very sentimental pictures that I just hadn't taken.
I stopped by the house in late November and then thermostat was broken off the wall and other things had apparently been moved. One of them was a picture of my grandparents' dog named Fangy, and the other was a picture of me and my grandpa back during the bicentennial days of Hayfield in 1972. He had grown a beard and I was dressed like someone off Little House on the Prairie.
Anyone who knows me, knows that my grandpa was the most special person in my life. He held my hand without saying a word when I needed it most. He passed away three weeks before Lindsey was born.
In this framed picture of the two of us was a silver dollar and fifty cent piece. I noticed the picture gone and asked Lindsey about it - her words? "I know how much that picture means to you, I would never touch it and I would never let me friends touch it."
A day later I came home and a familiar looking mat was in the garage. . . a few steps in the house was the hanger. . . in the next room was the glass. . . and in a box of Matt's stuff was the frame. You know what was missing? The silver dollar, fifty cent piece and the picture. I called Lindsey crying, and she denied knowing anything about it.
How could she have ripped that picture open for a buck fifty???? A couple days later she produced the coins - but you know what is still missing? The picture - the picture of the man who played such an important role in my life. A month later, the coins are in my hands, the frame is ripped apart and I still get sick to my stomach to think that she and her friends sunk that low as to taking the picture. I don't doubt they had a good laugh watching it burn.
The house is clean and empty now . . . still no picture.
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