18 Months Gone.

It happened the other day.
I didn't consciously know it, but some inner part of my mind or soul has been counting and keeping track.
Some part of me knew it, without my knowing I knew.

I was mean and hateful and bitter for two days -- April 15 and 16. Sometime Late on the 16th, I realized it was the 16th of the month.

And then I knew.

18 months without you.

18 months alone in the loneliest way.

18 months, just -- 18 months.

Is it only 18 months already, or is it finally 18 months?

I don't know.
Don't suppose it matters.
18 months is just a fact; a word; a number.
An anniversary.
The kind that needs acknowledged but is nothing to celebrate.

People sometimes wonder what I miss the most about you.
What a silly question,.
I miss the you-ness of you, not just your parts.

But I think of you not having to draw breath, not having to choose between eating or breathing.
Those are the thoughts I cling to and try to find unselfish comfort in.

But I still miss your presence in my life.

And I surely truly wish I could take or find or have new pictures of you to share. The old ones are so old.

Easter 2

It's so not right without you here. It just is (or isn't.)

Last night, I should have been coming home from work (if I was working) and got busy setting up Easter baskets for the kids. I should have been standing at the table, sorting out the gifts, sharing out the candies, arranging the contents, while you sat there commenting on everything and eating all the Reese's eggs. You should be sitting there suggesting places to hide the plastic eggs, and digging through your stashes for dollar bills and quarters to put in them. Some of your suggestions -- most of them -- would be silly. A few would be genius.
You should be here to see the children find the eggs and to see their faces light up when they discover the surprises inside.

The table was there, the candies were there  (except for Reese's eggs), the special gifts for the babies. The baskets -- not our purchase, though. There was even a leftover basket for the grown ups.
Everything was there.
Except you.

It also wasn't our home. That, too, is gone.
We have no home, but then, there is no us.
I guess we don't need one.

I've missed you so these last few days. It breaks my heart that I couldn't "pull a rabbit out of the hat" and get those babies some Easter outfits. It just breaks my heart.

And I am heart-sore without you. If that heart break had happened, it would somehow not be so grievous if you were here to share it with. Although, had you been here, it wouldn't have happened. You would have figured something out that I couldn't.
Not being you, I don't know what that would have been. But there would have been something.

Heart sick, heart sore, and heart broke -- just another holiday for this one you left behind.