It was an extremely emotional day, but also very rewarding. Oh, we didn't sell that many tools and the major ones went to people who knew or worked with Patt or had connections with others that he associated with. But it started out with my 20 ounce non-fat venti mocha from my brother, and a trip down from Issaquah by a longtime and steadfast friend(the matron of honor in my wedding). It also included help from Patt's construction buddies I've come to love and appreciate, the random kindness of strangers, lovely neighbors(yummy peppermint hot chocolate on a cold day), great conversations with my parents and my nephews(the rest of my husband's family SUCKS but they are fantastic) and the constant support of our closest couple friends. At one time though, there were 3 Jims here which was quite tricky! The hardest part was that a guy that Patt was acquainted with came by to buy the van, for a price that I wasn't expecting and couldn't refuse. I burst into tears and hugged this(to me) strange man, sobbed on my dad's shoulder and then forgot to give the buyer the keys to the side boxes and back. On another note, this guy DOES have my husband's house key, so I guess we're even! :) I called him and we'll meet up tomorrow to exchange; by the way, he's a super nice guy so don't worry about me, OK? I can't help but remember hearing my husband's van(its V8 engine was unmistakable) coming down the cul-de-sac and then the sounds of him backing it into the gravel on the side of the house. Many times I would be out for a run and would see the van coming down the street; he would flip me a wave and sometimes smirk at me (especially if it was raining or cold!) Will this always hurt so much, losing my memories of him bit by bit?