The kind of question we may have asked each other when the answer had relevance.

Now I’m not so sure and yet I’m haunted by it.

I find it hard coming up with a goal but if getting through the day qualifies; maybe I have.

The few people I met who have been grieving awhile tell me it is best I ask little of myself at this time.

I wonder how many days, weeks or months constitute ‘this time’?

I don’t know what you would say if you were in our home now.

It is not as kept up as you would have it. Closet doors have remain closed. Top of dressers, dresser drawers, top of end tables, end table drawers; items are all as they were…

I remember how the sunlight came through our bedroom window and that was enough for me to get up and going while you asked for more time to sleep and I patted your shoulder ‘yes dear’ I said knowing that asking for more time was code for ‘make the coffee, sweetheart’.

The coffee maker is the same.

I have not brought anything new into our home other than a couple books dealing with grief and a birthday gift from beloved sister Pat.

The thought of making changes to our home is not considered.

Every once in a while I think of roles being reversed and what would you be up to now. I honestly don’t know.

I had no idea so much of me would be with you and the question should be asked of us.