In my pantry, there are two cans of Alaskan Salmon from the Pennisula Processing and Smokehouse in Soldotna Alaska.
I cannot eat these two cans of salmon. I cannot bring myself to open these cans.
The cans were part of a gift of four cans of smoked Salmon sent to us for Christmas in 2007 by my Uncle Steve. Andrew has been asking to eat the fish with crackers, on a bagel or our favorite- with scrambled eggs, chives and cream cheese.
If I eat the salmon, it will be gone. Uncle Steve is gone. He died almost a year ago and I can't bring myself to open the last two cans.
It is cold here in Ohio. It's actually warmer in Alaska than it is here according to my Dad. He checks the weather station at Otto Lake not far from where Steve lived outside of Healy. Our sun is low in the sky today and the snow at dusk looks cold and blue. It is wispy snow, small wind whipped shards of ice blowing everywhere- under the door, across the pond, down the sidewalk. It's cold.
I have two cans of salmon. If I eat it with scrambled eggs, does it mean he's gone? It's just two cans of smoked fish.