Spring cleaning is in full swing at our humble estate and nothing is sacred until you hit the "Dresser of Memories". What, you may ask, treasures are contained within? T-shirts, lots and lots of t-shirts. Each one bearing the name of an event I attended, an establishment I have frequented, an institute of learning, a team I supported or played on. Still determined to lighten the load my wife offers me choices as we walk down the path of time and each shirt is held up triggering emotions of happiness and yes, at times, wonder of how I survived. Four huge drawers and a trunk to go through trying to decide which parts of my life I would like to forget. That loving, compassionate woman I married has little time for me to spin a tale of adventure for each shirt she holds and implores me to just say "in or out" So far half a drawer through and none have hit the trash. It has been resolved we may have to bring in an unbiased person judge to help, I can only hope it's someone who can ignore an elderly man's tears as he watches the drawers of life emptied and flash by as they are heaped on the pile of dreams past.
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