Missing You

The neighbor's porch light illuminated the foggy curtains and cast light onto her cheeks--your cheeks--and I caught my breath at the pain and the memories.  The girl cried out during the night and there I was, rocking her back to sleep and missing you.

I could not imagine how deeply I feel your absence...every day.  I wander by your favorite purple sweatshirt and inhale the scent that still lingers.  Out pops the toast, a little burnt, and I think how that was your preference.  I take pictures of my children and wish I could share them with you.  I look at my phone, your number, and just want to talk to you one more time.  And I dream about you, waking up with tears cascading down my face.  I miss you.

And yet, life moves on.  I guess that's the way of it, huh? One life ends and we continue.  Life continues.  The ebb and flow of human existence.  And I look at her cheeks--your cheeks--and I know one day it will be me.  And then it will be her.  But that doesn't really help in the late night/early morning hours where I sit, missing you.

October 4, 2013