There are places, little places, in my home where I remember standing when I heard some news. For example I remember the exact spot I was standing in the living room next to the sofa and I was told over the phone that my brother had died. I think of him when I pass that spot.
Another example would be a spot next to the dining table where my cat fell asleep one night and didn’t wake up. It was terribly sad. But at least I didn’t have to have her put down because of a slow, lingering illness. I think of her when I pass that spot and sometimes (you wouldn’t believe it) I shed a little tear.
And then of course there’s the kitchen. I was standing in the kitchen when my husband dropped dead very suddenly having being stabbed with the carving knife. I think of it every time I open the cutlery drawer.
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