#tuesdayuseitinasentence: What remains.

Sleigh bells

Image: Pixabay

Tennis shoes: the blackened toes say they were well used and they were, though often for mooching to the corner shop for pints of milk.

Your DVD collection: anything with CGI, car chases,  explosions. Though the copy of It’s a Wonderful Life was yours. Every time a bell rings …*

Lead guitar and amp: barely used.

Set of weights: used, but only to prop open that swinging door.

Rowing machine: you tried but stopped as your strength waned. Amazing how quickly the dust has gathered.

Medication: so many different pills. I forget what they were all for. I should give them to the pharmacist. But not today.

Your pillow: the smell of you.

Your voice: in my head as I sleep, fading when I open my eyes.




Written for Stephanie at Word Adventure’s #tuesdayuseitinasentence. Take the word – today it’s REMAIN / REMAINS – and use it in a post.

*In the last scene of Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life, Zuzu Bailey says, ‘Look, Daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings.’

27 thoughts on “#tuesdayuseitinasentence: What remains.

      1. God yes that’s a good point but really, we want to keep the love don’t we? Otherwise whats the point? Made me think of my mam and the scent of her on her clothes afterwards. I can still close my eyes and smell it. A really touching piece of writing.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Yes, you’re right. But in those first few days, there’s a part of you that wishes the pain was less, isn’t there? Scent’s a killer, yes. And handwriting. Still have a box with second hand books in it my dad posted to me before he died, his handwriting on the address. Feels weird his writing survives when he’s dead. Not that we got on well, but still. Weird. Thank you, sweet 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      3. They stay alive in our memories and when we talk about them. What’s that saying, the real death is the last time anyone speaks your name?
        Yeah me and my father had “issues” too so I understand what you mean there.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Odd, isn’t it, that people so important in our lives vanish when all who have known them die? Sad and yet right in some ways too. We shouldn’t outstay our welcome on the earth 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Yes, you’re right, it is. But often (not always of course but often) those whose names go down in history do so for negative reasons, those who shape the world often do so in a terrible way. To be forgotten at least means we haven’t done the world major harm in our lifetime. And all passes, doesn’t it? Blimey. Musr have caught me in a fit of melancholia! Haha! Sorry. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  1. I’m such a “stuff” person too, this idea of attaching meaning to the things that someone leaves behind is very powerful to me. Really like the way you did it here, too.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Joy. Stuff does tend to sum people up, doesn’t it? Little objects, someone’s scent on things – a handwritten note can be like a punch to the gut after a death. Thanks for reading 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I so totally could cry. We now live in my late grandparents’ flat and even though it’s been a year since we moved and a year and half since they passed, I still feel them… Thank you so very much for this contribution.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It must be at once tough and comforting to be in their flat, all the memories. And a year and a half is really nothing as far as the grieving process goes. I’ve known people who still cry over their loss at the most unexpected times, decades after their loved one died.
      My pleasure, as always, to take part in the prompt. All the best, Stephanie 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Beautifully done. My daughter Claire had a tape recording of her boyfriend singing Nirvana’s The Man who Sold the World. She didn’t play it often, because she was afraid of damaging it – or maybe because it was too painful. I remember the night he sang it for me (much better than Kurt Cobain). It’s the only memory of him that still makes me cry, after 20 years.
    The things they leave behind…
    A hearse just passed, with a coffin in the back. More moemories for loved ones to keep. You’d think we would have adapted to death.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What an amazing, precious keepsake. I love that song, too – so odd, so layered, hints at dark weirdness all the way through. That’s very touching.
      You would think we’d be more accepting of death, wouldn’t you? I’m getting there, I think – very slowly. It’s still a shocking thought, to imagine the world without me – I’ve only known the world wiht me in it, after all 🙂 Maybe we should never adapt to it – if it wasn’t so feared, perhaps we’d have less fight in us while we are alive.
      Thank you for reading X

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It makes me smile, the way you always thank me for reading – as if I was doing you a favour, and I’ll admit that there are some blogs I keep up with partly out of duty, but yours isn’t one of them… such a pleasure to read your work 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      2. What a lovely thing to say. I do feel I have to thank people for reading – there are thousands of blogs to read just on WP, many much better than mine (some of which I follow myself!) I’m always grateful for the handful of folk who regularly read and comment, and you are one of my top commentors and always a pleasure to spend time with and read your work. So, yes, thank you, Jane 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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