We had been married less than a month.
Ben mentioned that we needed more laundry baskets...
I remember sitting next to him on our bed, and laughing as he took a Sharpie and labeled one as mine. (Making things plural--with the wrong spelling & in the wrong context--was a deliberate trademark of his.)
And now I look at it and hold back tears, knowing that permanent marker is fading. It shouldn't matter. It's just a basket.
But I miss him... and every little quirk that made Ben, my Bennys.
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