What's in his pockets?

Yesterday, I am preparing for the family home evening lesson I have formulated in my head. I will use props for the younger children. Out of the closet I pull out the plastic boat and Joe's suit coat---I can do this.
I am strong.
All is well.
I quickly pick off a thread and piece of lint  from the pin-stripped suit coat, when my hands automatically reach in the pockets. I find 2 chewable Pepto, 2 sodium naproxen, tums, hard raspberry candies, and a Tic Tac.

My mood plummets. As I analyze, I realize I am still looking for confirmation he was here, he lived, he mattered and he still loves me. For a split second I even hope for a note from heaven, like in the movies.  But all I get are a few over-the-counter medicines, hard candies and a breath mint. Only facts proving that he was a man with back pain, an unsettled stomach and a need for "sweets" during church meetings. 
In my head, I  know he lived and because he lived the way he did he influenced many people.
His life mattered, and he did make a difference.
I know he still loves me.
My heart still longs for the confirmation. 
Us silly girls, we are always looking for confirmation of love, even in death!
I change my mind; I use clip art instead of props.
Still no tears.
Grief without tears!
Grief without falling apart!
Grief without sobs!
Wow.
The tears come this morning as I sweep the contents into my hand and toss all but the Tic Tac into the garbage.  I pop it into my mouth, and I cry remembering him. . .
There they are,
the tears, proving I still miss him.