As I wrote before, Jack’s sheets had been changed the morning of the accident. His dirty sheets were downstairs by the washer and accidentally got washed by friends before I had the mental capacity to consider saving them. All of his clothes were clean and folded.
So, for weeks one of my best friends has been praying fervently that we would find something, anything that smelled like Jack. A week ago I went into his room and spotted a gray long-sleeved Ski Utah tee crumpled on the floor. I hadn’t seen it there before. I picked it up, nervous yet hopeful.
It smelled like Jack.
Margaret and I shoved our faces in it, inhaling deeply. Thank you God, for this gift!
So yesterday I was folding laundry and picked up… a Ski Utah shirt.
Crap. I’d washed it.