His Shirt

I pull it close to my face, and my tears stream down my cheeks and onto the soft fabric. His smell is long gone.

It has been one year and twenty-nine days since my sweet Tom died. Yesterday felt like I was transported back to a year ago; I cried all day. Tears mixed with sobs, talking to him all day, begging him to come and get me.



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Jennifer Estes

I started writing about 2 years ago to cope with my struggles in life. I write about grief, caregiving, substance use disorder, and the death care industry.