I find myself doing this all the time. I will take Pete's hairbrush and remember him using it and I can actually see him brushing his hair. I close my eyes and hold his favorite cup and imagine him drinking from it. I open his desk drawer and see everything exactly as he left it. I close my eyes and I can see  him going through it looking the drawer. I remember catching him "hiding" something in the drawer, learning a week later that it was the engagement ring he bought for me. Sometimes I will spray his cologne... Grey Flannel in the bathroom when I am drying my hair. It reminds me of the times he would get ready for our "date nights". My eyes well up because I miss him so much. Remembering is part of the grief process. At first the memories come in flooding, overwhelming tides of emotion. I felt like I was drowning and couldn't catch my breath. I tried to control my memories. Tried desperately to decide WHICH memory and WHEN to have it. I would be sitting at work and burning tears would just run down my cheeks. It didn't matter where I was, work, church, supermarket, driving... I could not control them.

I have only cleaned out 2 of his dresser drawers. I would run my fingers over his clothes, hug them tight to my chest and bury my face in the shirts desperate to smell his scent. I have taken a few of  his shirts and put them in ziplock bags hoping to preserve them forever.  I sat in his wheelchairs and remember how he hated to see me do that. He didn't want to imagine me in a wheelchair. Ironic, that now I am. I wonder what he is thinking about that now!  I hold the pen he used every day when he worked out of our home. As I run my fingers over the smooth edges I remember seeing him with that pen. As the quote says... looking for echos of your fingers.