Moving On

DH family has a dear friend we call "The Bling Lady". She is a young 95 and she can tell you stories that will make you smile.

When I first me DH, and we started dating, "The Bling Lady" was a fixture at all family gatherings, and I had to pass her approval.  I am happy to say that she liked me and the rest has been history.

BL   (Bling Lady for short) drove and lived by herself.  She is called BL because she is always dressed impeccably, her face is made up well as is her hair, and he loves to wear her jewelry.  Her home matches her personality.  Furnishings are white, there are crystal chandeliers, and many other ornate decorations.  

About a year after DH and I were together, someone broke into her home through a bathroom window, stole her purse, and vehicle.  BL felt like she was victimized twice because when she called the police they questioned her if she knew her name, who the president of the United States was, and some other things before they would take her statement for the break in and theft.   BL vehicle was never found, but surprisingly her check book, and driver's license were left sitting on her front porch a few days later. 

I started to see a decline in her health soon after and I worry and fret about her since she never had any children of her own, and no family left so to speak of.   Late last spring she had shingles.  Let me tell you that is not something to mess with, she ended up with it on her face and actually ended up getting it in her eyes.  Shingles has affected her eyesight significantly she is almost partially blind now. 

I was told at the beginning of April that she is moving to Florida to live with her nephew.  DH and I went to her home to help me move somethings around, pick up some paperwork she wanted disposed of, and some old garden fencing that I wanted.  BL insisted these came home with us also.

Huge floor to ceiling pole lamps.  One is brass, it does have a nice soft light, but really not my style.  Very mid century modern if you are into it, but it meant so much to her, we could not say no.

The other one.

Again brass, and lots of prisms. 

 Neither are really what I would call our style, especially with our old farmhouse, but they are so special because they were hers.

What do would you do with gifts such as these?