In the process, it has become a scary thing to see, let alone approach.
The story's the same for all of us: it starts small. A couple of magnets from places we visited; a couple more tiny reproductions of the winning picture from some local event. For us, it's the annual Tulip Festival. Or even the nifty notepad where we jot down things to remember.
Once you start down the path of defacing or enhancing your refrigerator door (however you feel about the process), then other things are so easily added.
Pictures of special people get slapped onto the surface as quickly as they come into our possession. Signs or drawings made by grand kids are attached just as quickly. I mean, what grandparent can pass up displaying a drawing made by a little person who uses the universal symbol for love?
Each time courage is mustered to attack and de-clutter this over-crowded unsightly surface, courage is then followed by realization that choices must be made. Whose pictures will go? The faded ones that mean so much? The ones attached so many years ago the subjects look completely different now? The one, made just for us, warning diners that rabbit fur is a condiment?
Each time a sweet face or drawing or note is spotted when passing this messy place, a warm memory or feeling of love bubbles up and causes a momentary smile.
What do you have on your refrigerator door?