The TV is off, the room is cold, mementos are scattered everywhere. These inanimate objects remind me of birthday celebrations, meals, new refrigerators, septic tank repair, skunks in the yard, trees planted, yards mowed, tornadoes, and days that will forever live in the past.
Children, grandchildren and great grandchildren have come and gone. So have two wiener dogs and a cat who shared this home with its two loving human parents.
Now the house lies vacant, silently waiting for me to empty it of all traces of the people who spent the last twenty years inside.
My siblings have visited, taking with them any items to which they felt connected or which they presented as gifts over the years.
Yet, nothing can replace those who resided here, two elderly women who wish they could still live in this small country home on half an acre, with its fenced yard and tiny storage shed; this handy-man special, double wide mobile home where their treasures on this earth remain and they do not.