When I was 9 years old I had painted an old rock for my Dad. Till the day he died, he kept this rock on his desk for all his patients to see.

Now it's on my desk, and when I just touch it everything comes back to me; his office, how he would look up from his paper work at night when my brother and I would tiptoe into his bureau to give him a goodnight kiss.

Eagle, I truly can identify with your feelings of attachment to your brother's dresser. I think you have triggered many a deep longing in a beautiful way, that we all have for a lost loved one.