As soon as I brought the frozen food in from the car and into the fridge, I settled down. I called my friend to tell her about the Captain. She said he had been there every day coming out of the woods at feeding time. She continued that he looked the same, meaning he had not lost any weight in the 4 days he’d been there. So who greeted me and ran the Captain’s usual routine? And how did he know? Ghost cat? Double? Split? I would swear it was the Captain. You make up your own mind.
He remains at my friend’s, happy to have her following his feeding schedule. He adjusted. Finally, so did I.
Now I have time to wonder why I brought so much stuff! Boxes of stuff that would go into the attic if I lived in a big, ole’ house. But I don’t. My kids sure don’t want it. They are building their own memories. I start with Mom’s pictures and keepsakes. I don’t know most of the people in those photos taken in the 20s, 30s and 40s. Out they go. Hard to do but I do it. Feeling a little guilty, especially as a writer, but I do it. I carry them in my head and in my heart. I do not need to look at them and I didn’t from year to year anyway. It is hard to do but I do it.
Next to go are the letters, boxes of them, some from 50 years ago. Some from my brother Albert who lived in Mexico and then Puerto Rico for 50 years. Out. Some from my son Kenny while he was in the Navy. Some from family members and friends who were away for one reason or another. Out. Out. I enjoyed reading the cards I kept, still kept a couple; tossed the majority. Gone. Hard. I love the cards I’ve received over the years.
Twelve boxes of books that I have no place for and really no longer need to surround me are still piled up in front of me. It will take a little longer to take them to Goodwill which is right up the street from me. They are heavy so I’ll need to take them out in small bags up the long path to my car at the end of the parking lot, for the next 4 years. Well, maybe it won’t take that long.