Destroying The Evidence

When I first met Jon he was in the Navy and stationed in San Diego, California.  I was in a suburb of Boston (long story).  So we wrote to each other faithfully for a year before he was discharged and came to live in the Boston area.  As the time got closer, he wrote EVERY day.  The mailman thought he was consistent if nothing else!  I kept his letters all these years (1970).  I think for the first 20 years or so, they were at my parents house in my old closet neatly placed in cigar boxes (my best friend's dad owned a pharmacy and they sold, of all things, cigarettes and cigars) decorated with Contact paper.  They've moved with us many times.  While cleaning out that closet this week, I decided it was time to let them go.  So last evening was the ceremonial burning!  

Today marks 35 years since my dad passed away.  He was relatively young by today's standards (72) and died a year before I graduated college.  I was a little late finishing that up and had so hoped he could be there.  My mom left ten years ago so she was quite a while without him.  Every year on Memorial Day we would go to the grave and plant flowers and she would water them dutifully all summer.  Since her passing, Jon and I have kept that tradition up.  We were a day early today, but got the job done (in her memory).  The photo is in the extras.  It was a pretty warm day and the birds were singing and the children playing in the neighboring yards.  We sat on the grass and just enjoyed the sun.  Then the tradition of the past couple of years.  Jon is a donut lover and there's a place about 5 minutes away from the cemetery that makes their own, a family owned business.  Sunday morning was busy and his favorite was sold out (jelly sticks) so he had to settle for a jelly donut and a lemon cream.    

Now settling down to watch an episode from the new season of Bloodline and one from Call The Midwife.