44

Another year. More baggage. More questions. More everything. How does one sift through the collection of memories and belongings and tangled connectivity accumulated over forty-four years? Why is it always so easy to hang on but so hard to let go?

We cleaned out the storage shed last week. A premium aluminum 10' x 10' gable roofed double doors Sears model with a raised floor. One hundred square feet stacked seven feet high of cardboard boxes and plastic bins. An old table. Holiday decorations. Knick-knacks and patty-whacks.

Spread all over the driveway for days. Neighbors thought we were moving. Went through each and every box and bin. Keep this. Throw that. After all of that we ended up with.. you guessed it.. One hundred square feet stacked seven feet high of cardboard boxes and plastic bins. An old table. Holiday decorations. Knick-knacks and patty-whacks.

I once heard someone say "Never love anyone completely.. always leave a back door in your relationship so if it doesn't work out you can get away." How? There's no getting away. There is only letting go. Loving completely? Is there any other kind?

Two weeks before our 39th wedding anniversary, my wife made the hardest choice of her life and said she didn't want to be married anymore. We said we would begin "untwining" the tentacles that hold a relationship together and work towards her freedom. Emotional and financial and medical and family and friends and blah, blah, blah... each tentacle removed only to be replaced by another.

Countless therapy sessions. Everyone under the sun telling us what we should do. A shed full of knick-knacks and patty-whacks. A three and a half year old grandson. Every hope and dream redefined, reshaped and a fresh coat of paint for each of us. A dwindling market at best for the likes of us. Yet persevere we shall.

So five years and two weeks later we are about to recognize our 44 year association. It won't be much. Probably split a Polish beer and eat some sort of leftovers tonight. She'll go to her room. I'll go to mine. Just another day.