But we sure had a good time,
When we started way back when,
Morning walks and bedroom talks,
Oh how I loved you then,Summer skies and lullabies,
Nights we couldn’t say good-bye,
And of all of the things that we knew,
Not a dream survived
It was a solemn occasion, gathering each memory and placing them in that small box. A necklace I gave her for her first birthday we celebrated together, engraved with her initial, the chain still held a tangled strand of her hair. A ring with a heart shaped piece of marble, the corner chipped, I was always meaning to buy her a replacement. My wedding ring. Notes written on stickies, on bits of paper, on card stock. Mix CD’s full of love songs. Photograph after photograph that used to sit framed about the house, smiles, silly faces, kisses. Souvenirs from our honeymoon. From vacations and adventures. Once the tears were flowing they couldn’t be stopped. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so freely, the tears flowed out cleanly, uninhibited by any inner contradiction. Not a cry of pain, or shock or empathy or release as when I confessed my adultery, but of pure sadness at joyful loving memories that were forever behind me and the person I’d loved so deeply, and hurt, and lost.