It’s the Little Things

At this point in my grief, it is the little, seemingly meaningless things that get me.

Today it was a box of sugar-free popsicles.  

Steve loved to eat popsicles.  They were a sweet treat he could eat without breaking training.  So, on any given night he would eat 5-6 of them and scatter their papers and sticks everywhere he happened to squat for the evening.

I was trying to clear out the freezer…and way in the back, there they were.  Steve's popsicles.  There were just a few left…the box was squashed and covered with ice.  I shoved them back.  I couldn't let them go.

How could something so small make me fall to pieces?

A meaningless thing.

Frozen water.

Come. On.

But it was his. 

And eventually it will be another thing that disappears that was part of him.

That belonged to him.

I have been dragging my feet.

I have not been very aggressive in getting rid of these little, meaningless things in my house that were Steve's.

I just can't. 

27 

Cyna