One of the most precious things my grandmother Mary Browne Kearney left behind was a special box, one she kept her entire adult life. I remember seeing it from time to time when Kearney lived with us. Typically she would have the box open on her bed, either adding items or reviewing its existing contents.
It was a sad looking thing - an old, dented safety deposit box of military khaki green. A collection of dings and dents accumulated over the years had taken on a rusty hue, and the…
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