disintegrating

In the last two weeks, I have been on the receiving end of several packages. My grandfather's stuff has arrived, slowly and gradually. First his chairs, his coffee cup, his rugs... And now, his stuff is mine. It's weird how these transitions occur. One minute these pieces of material items belonged to someone I held so dear in my heart...and now they sit in my living room, in my kitchen, in my cupboard. His coffee cup is faded and broken on the handle. His chairs smell like him. And I am saddened. I am heartbroken that he isn't here.