Tiny City of Ice

This is what an apple dumpling looks like when you leave it in the freezer for nine months. Doesn't it look like a tiny city made of ice, with itty bitty sky scrapers reaching into the sky?

And now, as Paul Harvey used to say, do you want to hear the rest of the story?

Last year, we visited my family for Mother's Day. My big sister Barb brought along two trays of apple dumplings, a favorite treat of hers. She would buy them at the flea market by the Farm Show Buildings in Harrisburg. Before we left, I snagged one and took it along "for later."

I didn't know it yet, but that was the last time I would see my sweet sister alive.

I took the apple dumpling along to work but didn't get a chance to eat it. In the end, I put a tag on it with my name and date and placed it in the freezer at work "for later." I remember coming across it one time last fall, and it made me cry just to look at it. I simply stuck it back in the freezer. You know: "For later."

On this day, there was a sign on the work fridge about how - now that there are more of us sharing it - we need to be more careful about how much space our "stuff" takes up. I went through the freezer and pulled out a number of older items, including this. I guess it's "later" now.

Of course, I couldn't eat it; we're way past that now. In the end, I finally tossed it. But I did take a few pictures for posterity of one of the last gifts my sister ever gave me.

I kept it so long because I could not let her go.

This city of ice represents my cold and broken heart.

And now you know . . . the rest of the story.

The soundtrack song: Passenger, with Let Her Go.

Well you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go

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