Blue Jeans

unnamed (1)I find myself constantly getting caught off guard by the little things. I feel punched in the gut with grief and am overcome with sobbing. The memories that are in every nook and cranny of this house, our room, my car, this town, our church, on the radio and on television. A friend mentioned that every time he wears blue, he thinks of Todd. So do I…..So do I.

The other day it was a pair of his jeans. Blue jeans he had worn, probably only for a little while and then laid them over our dry cleaning laundry basket in our closet to wear again later. I can’t tell you when he wore those last… probably in December. They still have the belt on them. They still have his smell on them. But they don’t have him in them and he doesn’t need them anymore. He never put them back on. I bawled. For the millionth time.

Yet I can’t move them. At least not right now. But someday.

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