Sorting Through Mama's House

I've been going through my mother-in-law's house.  I have always called her Mama.  Every time I pick up her things I remember that she is not here.  I find unusual objects like the heart shaped melon baller and say. "Oh, Mama what were you thinking?"  She just bought new dishes just before she went into the hospital.  She packed up her old ones for me, but died before she could tell me.  There were more important things to talk about at the time, and her plates, which would normally be a great topic of discussion, were never mentioned.  She had a set of dishes just for outdoor use which she never used. I have never seen them before  I am giving them to a dear friend of mine to  spread her love around a bit.  I found her children's baptismal garments, all tucked away in a box with a graphic dating from the 1960s of the Theotokos and tied with a blue bow.  Mama had dolls.  She never struck me as a doll type woman, but she had dolls in her bedroom and I know she loved them.  She kept one of Tata's suits  and a pair dress shoes in her closet.  In the basement I she kept his lunch box.  That made me cry.  There appears to be jewelry missing.  I hate that.  It makes me ill.  The worst part is walking in her door, smelling her scent and knowing she won't be there.  We did not have a close friendship, but we loved each other very much.  I can't believe I have to raise my boys without her. When she died she had four frozen chickens to make chicken soup for the boys.  They loved her so much, and I know she was crazy about them.  It seems so cruel.  Soon we must pack what we want, sell or donate the rest and leave that house behind.  We take her love with us.  That is the hard part of death, the losing of the person physically.  We are physical creatures and we know each other through our senses. It's such a shock to lose that connection.  I don't recommend it, but that is the way of things.  We must forge on and live and part of living right now for me is grieving her.  Love you, Mama!