I found the old photo album in the basement of my aunt’s hoarding home. It set beneath piles of stuff in a back, downstairs bedroom. Tonight, I introduced it to her with excitement. I envisioned it re-igniting past memories. It did on one level. She freely identified the people in the pictures. But, it did not create excitement or smiles. It created sadness.
Bittersweet sadness. And, it begged the frequent question of ‘where’s Felix?’ and she provided her own answer to that sad question. In the end, I was heavy hearted and sick in the stomach. Pictures of her old home and the immaculate landscaping did the same….one interesting picture after another only elicited increasing sadness until I closed the album and set it high and out of reach in her room. I set two metallic angels I had secured from her home, special to her, on a dresser in her room. The gesture was lost in the passages of time.
Not a nice visit. Unraveling events. Distractions. Sadness. All too much to process this day. I bid her goodnight and walked out into the cold darkness.