I’m pretty sure nobody notices but me…

The last picture I took of my two loves together.

It’s almost been a year. His clothes still hang in the laundry room and in his closet – untouched. His boots still sit by the kitchen door ready for him to slip on if need be. I still feel his presence behind me as I sit at my desk. I slowly turn to make sure he’s not sitting in his old blue recliner and this hasn’t just been a horrible dream and that months ago we really didn’t put that old recliner by the curb as trash. I go about my business in the house and sometimes I see him out of the corner of my eye.

I miss him.

His ashes still sit on the bookcase shelf instead of being scattered on the mountains in Mentone, Alabama where he wanted to rest.

Seems I can’t let go of him just yet.

And I’m pretty sure nobody notices but me.

Because life goes on whether we do or not. People still go to work and school and church. People still eat at fancy restaurants and buy new clothes and fall in love. People still have babies and go to amusement parks and scream and laugh so hard that tears roll down their cheeks.

While behind closed doors unworn clothes still hang in closets.

Unworn shoes still sit by doors.

Ashes remain unscattered.

And I’m pretty sure nobody notices but me.



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