Like, I woke up and I could feel the missing of him, like a very loud drumbeat, but even more so, like an entire orchestra of missing.
The missing him sounded like music – it literally had a melody and harmonies, and, of course, his favorite, lots of guitar.
I didn’t know what to do with the missing, so I got out of bed and jumped in the shower, and the missing music continued.
The orchestra of missing kept playing on, so I stopped fighting it and concerning myself with it, and I just listened.
I sat with the music and listened.
For a few minutes, it felt like he was back here with me. It felt like he was home.
And then, just like that, it was gone.
No particular reason.
Just the remnants we are all left with after our person dies.
Some days, that music is a low hum in the background of life.
And other days, its an entire orchestra that wakes you out of sleep and commands your attention.
Its just that kind of day.
I miss you, Zachary.
It’s been just two days.
I miss you, my sweet, misunderstood husband.
And I know that I always will.
Who are you missing today?
Tell me …