Her Toothbrush

I'm sitting on our front porch on a nearly perfect morning. The sun is shining, our wind chimes are providing a symphony, birds are visiting the feeder. I'm sipping some fantastic coffee I brought back from Costa Rica and Watson is sitting at my feet. I even did some weeding, which I despise. 

With all of the beauty surrounding me, I am feeling Wavery's absence. I wish she could be here feeling the wind on her face and the sun's rays on her skin. She loved being outside and watching the world.

I am starting to feel like I need to make some changes in our house, particularly in her room. I am feeling inspired to de-shrine her space. Matt and I spoke about it last night. We both have to be on the same page in order to move forward. We have some ideas and I hope to slowly start making progress.

I have kept Waverly's toothbrush next to Oliver's. I knew the time would come when I would be ready to toss it. I am almost there. But like most things, I am overly sentimental. I know I will cry and consider reaching into the trash can to retrieve it. And I may. Such is the process of grief. On my own terms and in my own way.