My MIL Tossed My Late Son’s Clothes in the Dumpster, but I Revealed an Even Worse Secret of Hers in Front of Everyone
A depressed woman seated at a table | Source: Pexels
The only thing that keeps me tethered to this world is a small cedar chest we keep in our bedroom, filled with Caleb's most precious things: His dinosaur hoodie with the little felt spikes down the back that he wore everywhere, his tiny sneakers with the laces he never learned to tie properly, some crayon drawings he made of "our family as superheroes" where he drew himself with wings, and his silver bracelet that belonged to my grandmother before him.
Sometimes, when the grief feels like it's crushing me, I open that chest and hold his hoodie, pressing my face into the fabric where I can still smell traces of his bubblegum shampoo if I try hard enough.
