Richard's Shed

My Uncle Ron passed away this week quite unexpectedly. The funeral is on Sunday. I came down to Osseo, with my parents, to help prepare the cemetery flowers for our deceased family member's. They are always done in time for Memorial Day and my uncle always took care of the flower stands. He stored them in his uncle's shed. His uncle Richard. Richard Otto.

My dad and I drove out to Uncle Richard's house. Uncle Richard still lives at home. He takes care of his wife. She has Alzheimer's. She no longer remembers my dad though she's known him since he was a small boy. When we got there, Richard told my dad that Ron must have already taken the stands. We went out to the shed to have a look. The shed was dusty. Full of old, rusty, broken things. Things that haven't been used in years, but you keep because at one time they were used quite a bit. That you keep because you are just doing your best to take care of your wife and those things can wait. The light peeked in from a crack and shown down on the dusty belongings. The possessions waited in the shadows, knowing their time had past.