Let me set the story for you...
I had just gotten into bed and was getting ready to turn off the light when I happened to look at the floor behind my bed and saw...ants. Currently they are the bane of my existence. I loathe them. Anyway, after a few minutes of investigating, I determined that they were after a rogue cough drop in my nightstand. I'll spare you the disgusting details of how they were swarming all over it. I ended up cleaning out my nightstand (and under it and behind it and on top of it...). This involves cleaning out not only the drawer but the shelf-y thing underneath it. As I was cleaning out the shelf (it was mostly filled with books, go figure), I discovered an old hat-box that I put letters in. I would guess that about 90% of the letters that were in there were from my mom. Some going back as far as when I was in college. I didn't read through all of them because after about two of them I was crying so much I couldn't see. I put the letters back and pulled out some cards and discovered that they were cards people had sent me in sympathy when she passed. Cue more crying. I finally put everything away, washed my face, and went to bed. With a raging headache. Which meant I couldn't sleep.
A month from today will be eight years that she has been gone. It's about this time of the year that I fall into a really creepy deep funk and usually it takes me a while to figure out why. I still miss her so, so much but I am going to make a conscious effort this year to try to keep myself from sliding into the depression that leads up to August 12.