Layers

Life comes in layers. Onions? Parfait? Beauty, pain, grief, joy, delight. Today would be my Mom’s 82nd birthday. She’s been gone since the fall of 2007. Today was also the day Mary and I went to clean out Bryan’s office. Thankfully, David, Richele, and Natasha provided support, presence, humor. I may have said “too easy” through clenched teeth a time or two. Bryan had worked for Whitman College over 25 years and his collection of cords, books, notepads, sailboat calendars testified to that. While the whole process took less than an hour from packing boxes to filling cars, it felt like a lifetime compressed. What even is time?

The boxes and bags will linger in the car until I’m ready to face that next step. We only have to do these hard things once. Thank goodness. Mary and I decompressed with a meal and a walk. I am lucky beyond measure to have such an extraordinarily kind, loving, smart step-daughter. I would not have survived these past months without her. Without question. And whoever is for her, I am for them.

Bryan had many curious items, but a couple of my favorites were core samples taken from the Maxey renovation that he asked if he could have from the contractors. He used these as lamp bases. Bryan was never a fan of stark overhead light. He created a warm glow wherever he could. His messy office was no different. These cylanders of concrete and composite looked like pieces of art. Mary said she could almost hear him ask “can I have those?” They will now be part of her garden art and flower pot displays. Apt use of something seen by many as garbage but by Bryan and the two of us a slice of history and a bit of unexpected art. The unexpected layers are often the most beautiful.