I spent the weekend cleaning out the closets with Lou.   And the toy chests.   Every time it gets a bit easier as I find less and less of Ty’s things. It’s natural for a home to transition from baby toys, to big kid toys, to teenager “stuff.”   But when the traces of a life lost slowly disappear from existence, it is painful on a level that I can’t put into words.   This year, I am giving away a silly toy where you blow into a pipe and try to balance a little foam ball as it floats above.   Aunt Debi bought it for Ty while he was in the hospital.   It was great for his therapy, but he never quite recovered the strength to get the ball in the air.   It was time to let it go.   I was consumed with guilt as I watched my hand open and the object drop into a garbage bag.   It feels as if I’m throwing away another memory, but at the same time I know I can’t keep everything (unless we're talking about a decomposing cake - that I can keep forever).   This year, Spring Cleaning had

When we moved into our house, there was an old refrigerator in the basement.   They don’t make ‘em like they used to, because this thing looks like it’s 100 years old and it still works without any problems.   It's on the same floor where we walk out into the backyard, so naturally it became the “beer fridge.” On Ty’s last birthday with us, so many people did so many incredible things to make him smile.   In fact, we enjoyed “SuperTy” cupcakes from a local baker, a 3-tiered SuperHero cake with all of his beloved characters, and his favorite of all… a Max and Ruby Cake with a carnival theme.   It was one of his favorite episodes, and he often talked about going to the carnival.   In fact, he was laid to rest with his favorite Max and Ruby DVD and carnival tickets in his hand.   He died 13 days after we helped him blow out those candles.   It’s still impossible to believe.   No matter how quickly life goes on, how often I find myself smiling again, and how much I have