The past day and a half has been extraordinarily hard. I have felt so raw, so exhausted.
Feeling empty and hollow and full of sorrow at the same time. Wondering again how I’m supposed to survive without her.
Today’s prompt is about smells and the memories they evoke.
Each morning she’d start her day with tea. Good Earth tea, to be exact (because, she said it reminded her of childhood), and the house would be filled with the smells of cinnamon and orange.
No one drinks it now. The box sits untouched in the cabinet.
She smelled of cocoa butter and lavender, mixing her lotion with the essential oil that she loved.
I use her lotion now (it’s almost gone, I will buy more) and the smell of lavender brings her right back.
A very nice lady offered to make us a quilt from some of Abi’s clothing. Picking out the clothes of course involves going into her closet. Wow. I now understand why people hang onto clothing and resist cleaning out the closet.
I find myself wanting to go in and close the door, drinking in what remains, the scent of her.
I still have the comb they used for her hair while she was in the ICU, and I also have a lock of her hair. Both smell of her in those last days.
Every night I touch the lock of hair, smelling it, remembering. Her.
by 