I spent this afternoon/evening organizing and decluttering my dining room. Part of this involved cleaning out the china cabinet and buffet, so they could be moved downstairs for storage until spring when I take them to my mother’s house.
I was cleaning out the buffet, and discovered a candle in the drawer that we’d been saving:
It was supposed to be for his 50th birthday.
The running joke in our household was that he was going to be 50 before I turned 40. I’ll be 40 in just over a year – he never got to turn 50. He died at 49, and the candle never got used.
Next May, we’re going to have a party for him. Make a cake, celebrate what would have been his 50th birthday.
Seeing the candle made me sad… realizing that he’s never going to be 50. And I’m still getting older.
Missing him, so much. I’m finally getting the house to a state that would have been perfect for him to maneuver around in, and I don’t get to share it with him.
It was an odd bit of trigger, but the room is clean, organized and SOOOOOOO peaceful.