dust

There is a sadness hovering over the junk in the house.

Time to clear out stuff. The dust. The old lingering melancholy.

We are on the cusp of something new.

We plan to move next year. And so, we've got to sort our mess and take only the most important items.

In the process, I have uncovered old messages, pictures ... a life difficult to recall, tucked away in powdery boxes. Why do I keep it all?

Yes, there are good memories, too. Happiness found amongst the photos with smiling faces and kid-art with colorful scribbles, first-time face drawings. I've kept some of those things. They are hopeful and pure.

And then, the items reminding of those we've lost. I can scarcely touch them with fingertips, lest the tears begin to fall. This telling me how much I've tried to avoid the feelings. These things I keep in honor of those missed. These break my heart most.

A difficult road it has been.

I can only hope we'll be done with the sorting soon. Much longer and I'll be reduced to a gloomy, wilted rag of a person.