Bubbling up

Two weeks before my planned celebration to honor Burt, I find little reminders in his honor.

I am organizing my living space, with no wish to eliminate any of the reminders.

You might argue that disposing of Burt’s jackets and sneakers can be seen as a way of eliminating reminders.

Throwing out his things is as difficult as I had expected  it to be.

I don’t want to forget Burt or dispose of mementos. That should go without saying but I say it out of a little guilt as I remove clothes, and shoes from the closet.

Today, a truck is on way to take donations away.

My walls are happily covered with the photos of him that I took. These are staying where they are, sometimes with an improvement. I routinely make adjustments to keep them neatly in place.

Burt used to love when I would take his picture; he knew it was a tribute of my love.

I often say good morning to one or the other of the images of Burt that line my walls.

My stepdaughter sent me frames for Mother’s Day; (yes, she is always an early gifter). I took two photos of us from-before to put front and center. They represent a happy memory; all my photos do. At times, I repeat their stories as I look them over; I recall the what and where, when and why behind the pictures.

In the course of organizing, I had found papers from the days of our journey, destined for the shredder. These, too, provided memories.

Good morning, Burt.