After Thoughts

Last week I curled up on the love seat in the family room with my little yellow bamboo blanket. I guess I have not done that in months, or perhaps the recent heat wave brought it out, but wow, there it was, the distinct smell of my husband's after shave. Like a ghost going through the room. It was there, sitting on the couch and wrapped in that blanket. For a moment my mind lost itself, and it all seemed so real to me, like he had just been there and was perhaps upstairs. And everything comes rushing back with a smell. I wanted to stay wrapped in that blanket for some comfort, but realized it was fleeting and not real. And the whole house is now like living in some type of memorial to my life that never was. Even though everything he gave me is gone or packed away, in a box, in a dark garage, it does not change the fact that we lived here, laughed here, loved here, ended here. And I don't see why often women, but sometime men as well I suppose, so desparately want to hold on to "the house." WHY? It is just 4 walls, but covered from head to toe with memories that cannot be washed away really. I look forward to the day I no longer live here. I dry cleaned that blanket (home dry cleaning system) and it seemed to do the trick, now it just lingers in my mind.