Been decluttering in a bid to get ready for a cross country move. Ridding myself or cluttered memories of times gone past, of holidays and vacations etched in photographs, of people younger, and perhaps alive. One realizes then how long life has been and yet it feels short. Too short for my ma to have left. Such a long life and such little time to really savor it. This year my mother’s family has seen more deaths. My father is despondent. He’s also frail and I am fraught with fear of losing him too. I provide some solace perhaps to those who have lost loved ones or are in the process of losing them. In the midst of that my scabbed wound sometimes falls open. I relive my grief briefly through the eyes of others. And I am grateful to those who did this for me. Life seems to be now the events that happen between grief and pain.