My house is always cluttered. There are things scattered about that I’ve picked up at a flea market somewhere, or a note someone has sent me, or a piece of something I intend to add to some artwork. Although I love to be in a very clean house, that’s never my house. My house is overflowing with things I love.
There are things that remind me of people and moments. Not that I wouldn’t remember them anyway, but a little something can take me back to the exact minute and it’s alive again in all my senses.
Such is the case with this recipe I have had on my fridge for a long time. It was written by my friend, Matthew, in July of 2007 when we spent the weekend on his boat. He made this to share with some friends that weekend and he wrote down the recipe for me before I left – just on a notepad that was lying around.
Little did I know when I pulled out of the driveway that Sunday afternoon that it would be the last significant time Matthew and I would spend together. Less than two years later, he was dead at only age 34.
Recently I pulled everything off the fridge. I’ll add the recipe to one of my books. But recently when I started to put it aside I wanted to go reread what I’d written about Matthew when he died.
I can honestly say the friendship I had with Matthew was unique. I’ve never had that kind of relationship with anyone. I valued it then, and I miss it now.
And while it might be adding to the “clutter” in my house, I’m glad I have a little something Matthew wrote that reminds me of our last time together. Because, as I am always mindful of, we never know when “the last time” will be..
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