People say the dead will live within the loved ones or alongside them. I don't believe that as much as I want to believe, but the evidence of his existence is here and keeps living with me.
One of those things is a wash cloth, with which I helped him rub off bandage scum from his arm, when he came home from a few-day hospital stay in December 07. The cloth has a spot where gray dots of adhesive stuff stuck on the fiber. It's still sticky when I touch it today, and I wonder if that is permanent, as long as the cloth stays intact. (I don't know why I keep it - is it called obsession?)
Some of other places he still exists in are: my cell phone, Yahoo e-mail, database of some fundraisers, who occasionally send him an invitation to donate. Oh, Netflix too. I keep hiding behind his name when I rate movies.
I read everything you post -- and sometimes I read it all again. Maybe the dead show themselves in the ways that the world around them is different. I can name some differences in me that Adam brought about, like looking harder at color, and not staring at street accidents. . .
ReplyDeleteWhen he told me 'Don't DO that" [whatever it was] I really never did it again, and I remember him everytime the situation arises and I once again obey his rules.