It's the little things

My mother moved here in May, 2000. She was blind by then, and unable to live alone, so came to us. A year ago January she went on hospice and on October 21st passed away.
I was fully aware of what would be coming when we made the decision to go with hospice and, while hating the necessity, still feel that it was the right decision. I do have some regrets about some of the decisions I made, mostly the ones I feel extended her life and her suffering. Like adding protein powder to her food since she wasn't eating enough for sores to heal. It didn't work and I do think it made her linger longer.
My older sister lives 1800 miles away and didn't see how much Mom was suffering, but when she came for a visit in September we agreed to ask Pastor for a prayer for release. My sister said she had heard those in church before and never understood why someone would do that until she saw Mom. Then she realized.
Anyway, I had thought I handled everything well, knew what to expect, planned and organized, made funeral arrangements well in advance, and spent time talking with Mom and caring for her. And I did cope well. Then.
This week we emptied Mom's room and painted it. The big things were easy, but the small treasures have been difficult. She kept every card, drawing, letter, or project from everyone of her grandchildren. I found a pig made from a paper plate by one of her great-grandchildren when he was in pre-school. She kept every gift picked out by a small child and lots of those picked out by large people. I know who in the family will want certain things, but others not so much. And some not at all.
I found a pine cone from a picnic she and my dad had at Big Bear Lake or Lake Arrowhead when I was a small child. She picked it up then and kept it for years. She packed and moved it from California to Arkansas when Dad retired and kept it for more years, and she packed it again and moved it when she came here. So, yesterday, I held in my hand this dusty, dirty, pine cone that no one except my mother could possibly treasure and decided to throw it away. It broke my heart.