I thought I was getting to a point where I could finally start to deal with all the stuff still in boxes in my house. But then I went through a box. It contained some stray lightbulbs and batteries and some little storage boxes that go in drawers. Ok. A few random items I don't know what they are because they were his from his garage. Less ok. My smoke detector was in there. Very not ok. I know he removed it that night for obvious reasons and, yeah, I haven't had one since then. Then there was a refrigerator magnet I bought a zillion years ago when he and I took a trip to the Blue Ridge Parkway. I put it in a drawer, then I took it out again, then put it back again. Now it's in the trash but I may go get it out again. How much consternation can one cheap tourist trap trinket cause me? I know I have to eventually do this stuff, I just wish it didn't dredge up so much stuff for me.