Everything I Owned Was "Just in Case." Just in Case of What?

I found my mother's pillowcases in the linen closet. And king-size sheets from a marriage long gone. That's when the question showed up — what actually belongs here now?

I’m starting to think a full life has nothing to do with how much is in it.

For years I left the TV on. Not to watch. Just to fill the silence. Voices, chatter, someone else in the room. The noise of a life that still had people in it, even after the people were gone.

Then one day I turned it off.

No music. No screens. Just quiet.

At first it was brutal — t…