The temperature this week has continued, thus far, to be pleasant. Today in particular was lovely. It started out cloudy, cool, and with a bit of a drizzle, which all faded away to breezy sunshine and thick white clouds by mid afternoon. The lingering smell of rain outside was tantalizing, and after dinner I decided to take advantage of the autumn-esque evening and go for a walk. I stuffed my phone in my pocket, slung my camera around my neck, and headed outside to enjoy nature. Take some photos. Pray.
About halfway down the driveway, I deviated from the pavement and made my way to our storage building. I'm not really sure what inspired me to do so; I suppose I had a subconscious desire to walk down memory lane. I undid the padlock and made my way to the back corner of the room, kneeling beside a box of a miscellaneous assortment of Josh's belongings. Using my phone as a flashlight, I pawed through the box - the contents of which I already knew so well. Letters, notebooks, shoes, random gadgets, pieces of this, parts of that.
I picked up a stick of Old Spice deodorant and as I caught its scent, my emotional wall broke and I lost it (even though this wasn't his regular scent; he typically used After Hours).
I dug deeper into the box, pulling out other memorable things, things he loved. Things that were important to him.
I remember making him this scarf. I remember how often and how proudly he wore it, even though it was made with cheap yarn that wasn't as soft as advertised.
And then there was his script for First Impressions, which he of course he promptly signed.
He would probably be embarrassed by me sharing this photo; his signature isn't exactly in top form here (to this day, I still find new and hidden locations where he would practice getting his signature just-so. The boy was obsessed).
I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of these candles. A certain lady-friend of Josh's gave them to him, and he insisted they smelled wonderful and burned them in his bedroom regularly. In reality, the candles smelled less than fantastic, but I always thought it was a sweet gesture.
There were also many letters written to him while at ALERT, among which was the card I sent him for his 19th birthday.
Josh always had such a love for music. He was definitely the most musically gifted in our family, and was always drumming out a beat on the countertops with his fists, or strumming out a tune on his packing-tape-bandaged guitar. That boy used to make so much noise. I miss it.
And then I found this lovely piece of paper, on which he had scrawled various song lyrics. I love this so much.
I could sit here all night, showing you pictures and telling you stories, remembering all his little quirks and reminiscing the past. But with the warmth of remembering him is an increasing ache of missing him. It's been a pleasant stroll down memory lane, but I think it's time to head home for now.
There is a definite chill in the air. I think I'll go slip into his hoodie and head off to bed.