(The PayPal buttons have just not been working well recently. If the button doesn't work, it might mean that someone else has bought the painting, but it might mean that the button isn't working. So if you want this red-winged blackbird, please email me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com)
WHEN PETER DIED, I lost more than my husband, my partner, my best friend. I have a terrible memory, and Peter had a great one. He could remember the phone numbers of every place we lived. He remembered people from decades ago and what we had for supper last Thursday.
I could turn to him and ask, "Do you remember that movie with that actress who was in that golf movie and that other guy who played James Bond?" and he would say, "Oh, sure, the 'Thomas Crown Affair.'"
Usually, by the time I realized that I couldn't remember the name of anyone in the movie, let alone the movie's title, I'd have forgotten whatever it was I wanted to tell him about it. But sometimes I'd remember. And, bless him, he never even teased me about my terrible memory.
And if I've already written about this, well, see the paragraphs above.
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