All the material that was important in one man's life . . .

. . . distilled down to a list two pages long. Just adds to that depression darkening the edges of my vision.

For all their faults, WSU Housing has been great in helping us deal with P's belongings. They spent a couple of days earlier this week packing up everything, and they inventoried as they went. Dad had an appointment at the VA this morning, so afterwards the folks went by the apartment to deal with the oxygen bottles and oxygen concentrator (which had already been picked up, but the home medical company never bothered to call to inform Mom). While there, they picked up the electronic stuff and the list of everything else.

Mom seemed surprised that there were 100+ books and 120-something CDs and DVDs. Why? ::shrugs::

Part of me can't wait to look through everything, treasuring every bit of what's left of him. The other part doesn't even want to look at the boxes, let alone what's in them. It just adds to the reality -- the finality.

Everyone says I'll get through this, but on days like this . . . I don't know.