" Ghosts are just pieces of memory. They haunt us because we don't wan't to forget. We are the ghost makers. We take fragments of the dead and project them onto shadows and sounds, trying to make sense of loss by assigning it to a new shape. Ghosts aren't real. Dead is dead. There is no getting someone back.

I'm starting to forget the small things. The way Grace smiled at me. How her voice sounded when she was angry. What color nail polish she wore. Her smell. Smell is supposed to be our sense with the strongest ties to memory. Sometimes I pull out one of her shirts to remind me of her scent because I can fell Grace slipping from me. And I'm terrified of what that means. "

― Carrie Arcos , There Will Come a Time