You’ve been gone for 9 months. And yet…
Two weeks ago I swear you were holding my hand. I was half-asleep on the couch and felt your two warm hands holding mine. The sensation was as real as my fingers typing these words on this keyboard. Was it you?
A month ago I stumbled upon a card in a random section of Powell’s. I felt drawn to the shelf where this simple card sat. It read: “I miss you. Nobody here understands how hilarious I am.” Was it you?
2 months ago I was driving in total silence. Suddenly I felt the urge to sing “Purple rain, purple rain,” one of your favorite songs and your absolute favorite color. Was it you?
4 months ago I had a whole conversation with you in my dreams. You told me you couldn’t visit often but would come when you could. We talked for what seemed like hours and I woke up happier than I had been in months. Was it you?
6 months ago I had a total meltdown. I was exhausted, grieving, and too busy. My husband put on my favorite record and filled the living room with candles. I heard you say “This is why I knew you’d be okay. Look how he loves you.” Was it you?
You’ve been there in a hundred tiny moments; they don’t escape my notice.
And each time I laugh or cry and think – was it you?