Constant reminders

In the last few days, I’ve been helping my parents clean the house, especially Ed’s room that we once shared. I’ve rearranged furniture to reveal odd mildew growth and huge dust balls. I’ve found unopened packages of blankets and bedding that were waiting to be used. I’ve also found sentimental items, like photo albums of him when he was just a few months old, and a hand print he did in preschool when he was about four years old. Everything we uncover makes my mom cry, and it makes my eyes well up in tears knowing that this is all we have left of him.

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