Read Aloud the Text Content

This audio was created by Woord's Text to Speech service by content creators from all around the world.

Text Content or SSML code:

My great grandmother lived a very long and interesting life. She was in her 20s in the great depression. She had a wild streak from those days that we don't know much about, to the point that we actually don't know our great grandfather's name. Just the husband she took later. Over the course of her nearly 100 year life, she had collected owls. Literally thousands of owl figurines. She had clocks, wall-hangings, potholders, lamps, stained glass art, salt shakers, and more little figurines than you could imagine, all depicting owls. We all wondered the importance of the owls. She never talked about them, we just all knew she loved owls. Well, when she was nearing death, at the age of 98 or 99, and the docs said she had days, my grandparents went and talked to her and they asked her if she had anything she wanted to share or ask before she goes. She thought for a moment, then said, "I never understood the owls." It turns out, she didn't really give a shit about owls. Near as we could piece together sometime in the 40s or 50s perhaps, she bought either a trivet or a set of salt/pepper shakers that were owls. Then someone got her the other. Those were the oldest owls anyone could remember. But from there, someone got her an owl to match, probably a potholder or place mat. And all the sudden her kitchen was owl themed. From there, it snowballed. The owls flowed like wine, baffling her for 60 years, eventually taking over as the bulk of her personal belongings.