What Remains

6 weeks.  His room doesn't smell like him any more. 

 

Every night I go in and turn off his lamp and tell him good night.   

No other room in the house smells like HIS room.  But I can't smell it any more.  I feel close to him there....in the room with HIS things. 

 

 The things that HE loved.  The things that HE touched over and over again.

 

 The clothes that HE wore....that touched HIS skin.

6 weeks later....this is what we're left with.  Sure we have our memories.  But this is what we have left of HIM.  The physical connection of things- material, tangible, touchable things.

 

At six weeks, I still haven't removed the last traces of Matthew.  These are things that we don't NEED to keep any more...but yet I can't remove them.

 

 

I don't think we'll ever change the chalk board....the largest message was from when he was diagnosed.

 

 

 Yep, in our master bathroom....he slept in our bed the last weeks of his life.

His back pack remains where it's been since he put it there on the last day he attended school.  His homework folder is still inside.

 

 

And then there are new things that I've added.  This beautiful frame that my oldest and dearest friend made us and surprised us with after Matthew died.

 

What remains is clearly not enough.  Not enough to ease the pain.  Not enough to bring him back.  It's just not enough.  Nothing will ever be enough.