It’s been over seven months since my wife took her last breath. I never imagined the things that would follow and how meaningless things are until they become the last of their kind. No matter how I try to hold on to it all, time seems to drip its way to the last of things I will eventually leave behind.
One of the first things to cause me to pause and realize how meaningless-meaningful the last of things become, was a bath towel. I grabbed a towel just as anyone would and there it was staring at me and causing me to collapse on the bathroom floor…The imprint of her tiny hand left behind when she stacked the towels neatly in the closet.
But as I moved the towel…The imprint lifted away. The last of her touch on a meaningless thing.
Many of her last things make it into my every day life. The last of the coffee she bought, the last of the straws for her big glass of water, her soap, shampoos, toothpaste…Things you never realize would have such a psychological impact on you… Tonight it was a big box of dryer sheets…Freakin’ dryer sheets!
It’s the last of things she touched, cared to buy, or use daily.
After seven months I thought I was getting to a peak and maybe see a new grassy valley to rest and ease the mourning that I am plagued with in her absence…What I saw tonight was another mountain. For such a small woman she left me with a pit in my heart as deep as the ocean…The last things she left for me to find, whether on purpose or by accident, keep reminding me of the pit no one will ever be able to fill.
It’s the last of things I understand will be important to my own children as they find the meaningless-meaningful things I leave behind when my time comes. It makes me pause on how their reactions will be as they reflect on my life with them…It’s those meaningless things they will cherish.
We become the last things.