Friday, August 26th, would have been Bret's 28th birthday. In the days preceding I thought a lot about being a young, pregnant mom, anticipating the birth of my second child. I never could have imagined what the future held. No one can predict when our world will be rocked so I try my best to value the present. It's not easy, especially when going through challenging times. Memories can evoke happiness and sadness. I was filled with both, as I spent his birthday, alone in my studio, by my own choice, sorting through an accumulation of old photos, letters, books, art supplies, old watercolors, even artwork I'd kept from my college years. Something told me I needed to purge. I felt the need to lighten my load. As I sorted through these belongings, I found notes and letters Bret wrote as a child. I was the best mom, he said, so many times. I ached with love and sadness as I looked at photos of my beautiful baby, child, boy, young man. I began to think about impermanence. The impermanence of everything. The accumulation of stuff in my studio became irrelevant. I felt that my heart, my inner being, was what mattered most. I purged through everything in my room, keeping only things precious or useful. Subconsciously I knew it was time to let go of things that weigh me down. To tackle my fears head on. To trust in the universe and let the gentle breeze guide me. I am grateful for these lessons. I am also grateful for the presence of Bret's spirit, on what was a tough, but enlightening day.