我有这个想法，最早是因为看了一部电影: Simon Birch

电影里的小男孩，幼年丧母，电影里的对白让人觉得感伤。。。

When someone you love dies, you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces over time, like how the mail stops coming. What I remember most to this day was my mother's scent and how I hated it when it began to disappear. First from her closets, then from her dresses she had sewn herself and then finally from her bedsheets and pillow cases.