permanent collection
the pandemic has gone
on long enough to get to
“clean up the barn”
and I unpacked the
museum in a box
waiting to be curated
pictures from my
father’s ordination
wrapped in plastic
since Mom’s funeral
what do I do with
a memory
that’s not mine
no one has missed
it for years
do museums ever
use trash cans
in another box
my eye catches a
card in Dad’s hand
thank you for making
time to come see me
it was after his heart
surgery I came in late
he was in recovery
and he remembered
I remember too
permanence
can’t be collected
we will all go
out of print
still I hate to
be the one who
clears the room
for the next exhibit
Peace,
Milton
Ohhhhhhhhh, how I feel your pain! You’re right. This is the time…ok, Monday. Sigh~~~~
I remember the day after the day when your father died.
That’s the day he came alive to me through you.
In many ways you carry-on the best of those two worlds in the early nests of light and nourishment.
You have made nests for all of us kids.
I have been in the halls of that museum too.
Oh, how difficult these “tasks” are. Even deciding what to do with school pictures and children’s memorabilia. HOW do you throw away the plaster of paris child’s handprint given to you on Mother’s Day? Thank you, Milton.
I am awash in heirlooms that my daughter may not want, but with which I cannot bear to part just yet. Museum indeed!