For Mike
Because love is about the small everyday moments that we share,
the pain of your absence was especially severe in
the early minutes, hours, days, months and years after you died.
The song you wrote that first captured my heart.
How I fit so neatly into your embrace,
especially in the mornings when we met in the kitchen for breakfast.
The way that you shaved my legs when my pregnant
belly made that task an impossibility.
Your words of encouragement when I’d try something new,
believing in me when I didn’t have faith in myself.
How we were partners in running the house,
each bringing our special talents so no one carried all the weight.
You were my companion in parenting our kids,
never shying away from dirty diapers or vomiting children.
Even wringing out the cloth diapers that had been soaking
in bleach before putting them in the wash.
Being my person to run things by, even if I knew what I wanted to do.
It was nice not to have to make every decision alone.
The way that only you could wash the laundry,
so that the clothes felt just right.
Going to concerts together.
Quiet evenings at home watching our favorite shows.
The sense of humor and inside jokes we shared.
The list goes on of these extraordinary ordinary moments
that I miss so much about you.
Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems 