One of the nagging thoughts that haunted me for weeks after my grandfather died was the immediacy of separation between him and the material objects. Of course, it's a tale as old as time; material objects as we are constantly reminded, don't accompany us in our afterlives and yet we make all our lives around them. 

By material objects here and the separation, I mean day-to-day items and the memories or associations we have with each of those. I found myself thinking about the most benign things, from how he held my hand when I last met him and the nail paint I wore, and for weeks following, I couldn't remove that off because that carried the last remains of his touch on my life. Even when he was hospitalized for weeks and we were all trying to make sense of our lives without him among us physically, I often wondered if this immediate material world we are surrounded within is the last of what we shared mutually. My mind wandered to the most basic items at home- plastic water bottles, cell phone devices, souvenirs, television, even the news, and the current affairs on the television; everything at home had his touch or remarks and yet, we were aware of how it was a matter of time before change sweeps over. 

Surprisingly, it hurt me the most when I saw the old bottles were disposed of and donated despite initiating the much-needed order of change. These bottles had seen the hospital rooms far too many times. Who's to say the new ones won't but with these, there was a pre-pandemic life, pandemic life and the life that was taken away- all the transition lived through one. I've been working towards cutting people and things off but I found myself upset at the idea of retiring reusable plastic so clearly, I'm struggling within. 

If that's enough, I took the plunge towards a new phone. Unlike the water bottles, the phone has almost been an extension of my body (barring Covid), pretty much every living moment since 2018. It has travelled to countries, seen me hurt and seen me through many many things and trying times. It carries my life of a desk job, then another, then trying to make sense of the pandemic world, then finding myself hopelessly glued to begging for my grandfather's life via each telephonic update and finally, cutting contact from everyone when I thought it was it for me. I don't come from the school of thought where I replace a phone when the device is working fine and hasn't broken in smithereens and I did that, earlier this evening. 

Perhaps, there are few things as valuable as the device and the connection between the living and the dead. Somehow giving the most important part away doesn't sit right with me but life moves on. Re-sale value depreciates and you realize the world doesn't pause and mope with you. It's a lot to process and in other ways, it isn't much.