Before neatly folding the yellow t-shirt I keep under my pillow, I take the sleeves and wrap them around me as if to feel his hug just one more time. It is the same yellow shirt he was wearing on that March day when his heart no longer had the strength to beat.....and so it stopped. I kept it thinking that the scent of him would remain forever. It has not, and still I continue to bury my face in his yellow shirt, hoping to be reminded of the smell of my sweet boy.
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