Things I Can Not Do

by | Aug 7, 2010 | 0 comments

Wash our sheet.

Wash our towels- because they were the same and I’m not sure which one you used. I started using a clean one but left those two hanging up.
Throw out the celery you bought to make me a tuna melt.
Eat the homemade ice cream I made with the crushed Newman’s mint cookies you left in the cupboard as a surprise for me.
Touch your laundry in the hamper.
Move the napkins you left on top of your right computer speaker. You always had extra napkins- I think because they were free.
Move the bag that I put down on the entry way table right before receiving the phone call.

JAC

August 7, 2010
Dear Audrey
v
0

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You May Also Like…

December 17, 2014- A New Blog

It has been almost a year and a half since I last wrote on this blog.  In my mind, this blog was complete.  And yet, there was a lack of finality to it.  Grief has no finality, though it does have evolution and change, while this blog does have finality simply because...

Speed of Light

On the eve of your death I am watching town fireworks the day after the fourth of July. I am overwhelmed by the crowd of families around us on blankets with glo-sticks and cotton candy as we wait for darkness in the still, hot, summer air.  There is a Korean...

Father’s Day 2013

Father’s Day 2013

This is the third time.  It is brutal.I haven't felt it helpful or complex enough to say, "It's not fair; it's just not fair," in the past three years.  But on this day, I think those words a lot. Unless your young child has lost a parent, you cannot imagine...