So this is embarrassing but I feel like sharing it finally. When my father died this past January, I was with him. The clothing I was wearing were soaked in vomit. The entire event was so painful but it's my clothing soaked like that, as I frantically tried to help him, that's especially painful. I was wearing them throughout the whole ordeal, for hours. I can scarely think of it but I remember what it felt like and the smell so distinctly.

As such, those clothes have laid in the same spot in my bathroom since the night I came home and took them off, after he was gone. I can imagine what most people might think about that and it feels shameful. But I couldn't touch them or look at them. I've come in this bathroom hundreds of times since and it's like they aren't there. But occasionally I look.

Today I'm finally going to take care of it. I don't know how it's going to feel. Please wish me luck.💜