Author: Kris Lindell

Symphony and I were talking about grief and grief art and an article I had shared with her a while back. This led her to suggest that maybe I have something to say and maybe it could be combined with the screenshots and photos I have compiled. Annnnnnnnd, then because I have ADHD and hyper fixate and love anything to do with words, I suddenly found myself with a blog…

So, here I go:

These awful, beautiful months of April, May and June. So many “last times” In these specific three months.

It has been 22 months and 21 days since you left, Chase. This thought savages me.

Laundry time. Clean sheets.
The scent of your favorite fabric softener in the crisp warmth of the linen.

Making up the bed. How many beds have I made in my lifetime? I’ve lived a lot of places, so… Lots of beds.

Thinking back to the beds I made up for you, remembering your crib. Sending you a bed and new sheets for each new start.

Realizing there were many beds I never knew about, your bed in unfamiliar and unknown places.

Sometimes those beds turned out to be a car, a couch, a floor, and one time, a cell. Picturing you in those long ago places, those sad places, those desperate places.

Remembering that you died in the last bed I bought for you, in the last sheets I sent to you.