Can we talk for a minute about the little things that remind us of the people who are gone?
In April after we moved back from Raleigh to SC I couldn’t bring myself to unpack my oils.
I’d still pull out the odd oil I wanted to use, and I still took my supplements, but every time I opened my box of oils my heart ached.
My dear friend Lydia was the person who introduced me to this company. I was the first person who joined her on this journey. And our joint efforts were one of the things that brought us closer together in our friendship.
She always said we were friends first. And that was true. But working with her was FUN.
The smell of the oils, the feel of the bottles in my hands, the names of the oils I knew she loved… all of it was so deeply steeped in our shared experience.
And she was gone.
I’d never ask her advice again on which oil to use or what to say to a friend who wanted to learn more.
I’d never again bounce business ideas off her or hear her tell me she thought I was doing an amazing job (even when I felt like I wasn’t).
You’d never think so much emotion could be locked up in such small bottles… but it was.
It still is.
I have oils for processing trauma and oils for releasing painful emotions… but it’s kind of tricky when the oils themselves can trigger those feelings.
Anyway. A couple weeks ago—5 months after our move and after Lydia’s passing—I decided it was time.
I unpacked them all. I gave them homes. And I’ve been making a point of diffusing something every single day.
I think as time goes on, the pain lessens.
There’s something healing about using them now.
She’s still there in my memories as I use them. I think somehow she will always have to be there. But I’m ok with that.
Because she loved these oils and I do too. She wouldn’t have wanted me to keep them boxed up after she went to be with Jesus.
What everyday things have reminded you of loved ones who are gone?