I burned my morning oatmeal the other day, the first time I’ve ever done that. I had it bubbling away in a pot on the stovetop when I remembered I needed to find a photo for someone, and since the laptop was right there on the counter I figured I’d look the image up while I was thinking about it.

These days my memory leaves something to be desired.

But as I looked for a specific picture of my Aunt I got sucked into the file filed with images of her. She left us last October, already five months now.

I had pictures of her from many of my visits with her during that last year together, and some from before we knew cancer was growing inside her, when we took our last trip down to Alabama together.

I did a lot of fun stuff with my Aunt Becky, she was always on the go and lots of times she brought me along with her. I want to be like her when I grow up. But I hope I get to live beyond her young 87.

I miss her a lot, but sometimes it’s hard to remember she’s not here. It’s like I have to relearn the sad reality over and over. I suppose that’s normal.

But darn, I didn’t realize I’d burn my oatmeal while remembering the good times.