I was arranging the "linen closet" today, as my family always called it. Not sure if that's common or not. :P You know, the closet that you keep the towels, sheets, table cloths, etc in. Anyway, I came across Eomer's favorite afghan. His afghan was pink & burgandy, very loosely knitted, and a wedding present from a coworker. Eomer fell in love with it because he could literally burrow into it. The holes were big enough for him to crawl through. Finally, we quit keeping the afghan over the back of the couch. It was folded neatly in a corner of the den just for our bunky boy.
When he died in November, we simply put it away. I didn't want to wash it then because it was one of the only things left that we had that smelled like him. All these months that the afghan has been in the closet. Today, I took it out to refold it, and as I shook it out, I smelled Eomer. I shooked it out some more and pressed it to my face. I could still smell his musky, ferrrety scent. It made me cry and smile at the same time.