I held it between two fingers and stared at how small it looked.

He was bigger now.

So was the life we had made.

I placed the sock inside a memory box with his hospital bracelet, first photograph, and a card from my father that I’d kept since childhood.

Then I put the suitcase back on the shelf.

I didn’t need to throw it away or put it on display.

It had carried us through one hard morning.

That was enough.