Same same but not the same, really

Lilac portals into the past

Last week, in my old bedroom at my mother’s house I opened a portal into the past. By portal I mean the drawers of the dressing table that has sat under the window of the room for as long as I was its resident. The dressing table itself was, I think, my mother’s or at least a relic from another family home of a bygone age. At some point in the 90s I pai…