Still cleaning out and throwing away stuff, hauling bags of donations off to Goodwill.

Found an old foldover list of numbers that I used to carry in my purse. From the numbers listed (especially the work numbers), I can tell it must date from 1987-1990, with maybe a few additions after that.

A few entries I don't recognize any more. Must have been a brief contact or a business associate. One I remember now was the SysOp of the computer Bulletin Board I frequented, back before the www.

Then there are the numbers I've re-copied so often: Red Cross Blood Donation, Auto Club, doctor, next door neighbor (where his mentally disturbed son still lives), my brother-in-law.

But so many--too many!--are names and numbers of people no longer with us. Who have died, sooner and later.

My mother.
My stepfather.
Uncle Ken.
Mother-in-law.
The love of my life.
A dear friend.
Another dear friend.
My veterinarian.

Or beloved friends and relatives who now live far, far away, like Batty, my cousin Alice, and my cousin Ken. Their info is recorded in my cell phone, my computer, and my little spiral bound notebook.

It makes no sense to keep this bit of memorabilia. I say good-bye, thanks for residing at the bottom of my purse all those years, vaya con dios.