It’s amazing to me how inanimate objects can hold memories. I can see something and it automatically sets off my grief without warning. It’s like a slap in the face.
I just spent the morning cleaning up and as I was vacuuming I was noticing all of the things that scream ‘Benny’ to me. Anyone coming into my house would have no idea, but I look at these items and I think of him. They weren’t his items, but something that I’ve connected to him since his death.
Grief is weird. It changes how you see things. It’s like you have a permanent set of glasses glued to your face that can never come off. And if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t want them to come off. I’m able to see hope and love in the mundane.