We had a spell of weather recently that was for us unusually warm for the spring of this year.
I opened windows for ventilation and continued on about the sentimental task of sorting through boxes upon boxes of 50 years accumulation of memories my wife had carefully categorized into all manner of keepsakes.
Baby pictures, country travels, first attempts at cursive writing, birthdays, graduations, weddings, grandkids, ball games.
Cards upon cards of comfort adorn the buffet and are taped all the way to the ceiling. Well-wishes like the most beautiful wallpaper fill the entire space.
Since I lost my wife to cancer the first day of this spring, one thought more than any other dominates and that is how incredibly blessed I’ve been, as if my steps have been directed; my way chosen; my path pre-determined.
It is like pulling back the curtain of a darkened and temporarily forgotten window left open only to discover beauty insists on being seen; hope will triumph despite grief; love – so great a love – sustains through so great a loss.
