Nail Polish

Last week I finally removed my toe nail polish. It had been on my toes since before G died.

A few days later I put on new polish. From a bottle that G gave me for Christmas last year. I asked for some fun new colors for our trip to the Caribbean and this was one of them.

It felt like a big step. Because for a long time after he died, I couldn't imagine having the energy or desire to fix my toe nail polish. And I didn't want to get rid of something before he died. And then using the polish he gave me seemed so emotional

But I did it.

There's so many tiny things that are big things. 1,000 little details every day that no one but me would know affect me. So many reminders of G. So many decisions of when to move something, use something, get rid of something, store something.

When I have it in me, I do it. When I don't, I don't. I still haven't moved his favorite cup. The one he drank from every night and brought downstairs each morning. The one that I gave him for Father's Day in 2018 when we were spending the summer in FL taking classes. Because he hated his drinks to be warm and was always worried about having warm drinks in FL! The one that was too heavy for him to drink out of on the night he died. It's going to be a long time before I can move that cup.

But the nail polish is fresh on my toes - and one more tiny way that G is taking care of me even now that he's gone.