I'm staying in the new home that my aunt has moved into, after 30 years of being married to my uncle, and 10 years grieving his passing. We are stepping over packing boxes and placing furniture and photographs. We still refer to his things as his -- his chair, his side table. And my mother, his sister, is here in spirit too, in photographs and little things she left my aunt.
Outside the window a cherry tree is in full blossom, and it's seen more than our lives.