Searching for something for Randy in the catch-all basket that sits on the breakfast bar, I found, among dead batteries and unpaid bills (the hallmarks of my dyslexic life these last two years): the first cell phone I bought after Rod's death, when mine crapped out and I lost most of his texts...some old photos of his from an ancient trip to Telluride with our friend Travis, which I pulled out when Trav was over to give him the duplicates....a seashell from our Diver's Cove wedding in Laguna Beach...the white pair of shades I wore on our wedding trip to SoCal, now missing an arm but not discardable....two books, "Happily Even After" and "Healing After Loss".....and two bags of glass hearts I bought after Camp Widow for a message release with his family and our friends on the first anniversary of his death. All these bits and pieces, mostly broken and all sad, of what used to be our life.....HIS life....and now, of my own shattered life, after his death. Oddly enough, the tears I've been shedding like monsoonal rain for the last two weeks escape me now. There is nothing but hollowness. Rod's life, in the basket with the dead batteries. Is this all that eventually remains of any of us, when we go???