Always something there to remind me

When people leave us, we hold on to memories because it’s all we have left. I am surrounded by memories. Sometimes, it’s a comfort to me – like seeing his toothbrush next to mine on the bathroom counter. I like keeping it there, for no particular reason except that it makes me feel comfortable, which is hard to do these days. I will come across random belongings here and there – a piece of paper with his work schedule scribbled on it, a book he was reading, even his shoes, which I still trip over by the front door sometimes. Things like this just make me smile – then feel sad, then smile again. All in all, they are happy reminders. I like to think it’s Al just letting me know he’s still around somehow.

Yesterday, I continued my Spring cleaning. I’ve been going through clothes, putting things in bags to donate, and just trying to get rid of stuff in my continuous effort to simplify my life. In a pile next to the couch, I found a throw blanket – cream with small flowers on it. I used to keep it over the back of the loveseat. When Al got sick, especially after his surgeries, that’s where he slept, because he could recline and be comfortable. He would call me if he needed anything, and send me text messages to say goodnight, and thank you. Every night before I went up to bed, I’d get him all set on the love seat, with his meds, his bottle of water, and anything else he may need during the night. And that blanket was always under him. When I saw the psychic last year, she mentioned a blanket with flowers on it, and I didn’t really get it until a few days later. So, it’s kind of important, and apparently after he passed away, I put it in a pile with some other blankets next to the couch, where I found it yesterday. I opened it up and started to cry. Then I saw that I hadn’t washed it, because there were some stains on it, looked like blood, maybe from his feeding tube incision. I immediately started sobbing – one of those hysterical, loud, can’t breathe kind of sobs. I screamed for Ryan, and he ran downstairs. I showed him the blanket. I asked him what I should do with it. He said “keep it”. I asked him if I should wash it and he said “no, keep it just like that”. So, I put it in the basket with the clothes to put away. I’ll just put it in the closet, and I’m sure it’ll make me feel good knowing it’s there.

"The heart hath its own memory, like the mind. And in it are enshrined the precious keepsakes, into which is wrought the giver’s loving thought." ~ H.W. Longfellow