I am finding out the more things I get rid of, the more things I find I can do without and I want to get rid of more. Joyce and I both agreed that when we die all we want is to be like footprints on a sandy shoreline that wash away with the incoming tide. I say that now, but with my loss of her I find my memories of her continue. No incoming tide will wash them away and I don’t want them to ever fade away. Her footprints are on the shelf of my closet in the form of ashes from her cremation. God never meant to create a perfect person, but He came close with Joyce. She was the perfect woman for me. She earned a place in heaven for all she did for me, for all she put up with for me. I doubt that any other woman would have stayed by my side through all of those years.
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