For almost a year this corner of my dining room table held all the sympathy cards I received after mom died. Although I had read each one as I received them, I had not re-read any of them throughout the year. But having them nearby gave me comfort.
Today marks one year since family and friends gathered to say “goodbye” to mom one last time. It ends the “year of firsts”: the first Thanksgiving without her, the first Christmas without her, the first birthday without her, the first anniversary of the day she died and the countless other events that happened throughout the year without her.
To honor that, it seemed like a good day to re-read each of those cards. And they were as heartfelt and touching and comforting today as they were the first time I read them. But today I also felt like I didn’t need them nearby to feel the comfort they gave me and I felt like it was okay to clean off that corner of my dining room table.
So I did.
Love you buddy, I’m glad you know you’re going to be ok, as hard as it is.