Audrey’s really into storytelling right now- so I often tell her stories about you and I when we were little or before she was born.  At night in her crib she usually asks me, “mommy, make up a new song!” and I make up something about our day and sing it to her…but lately I’ve been making up stories instead so now she asks, “Mommy, make up a story!”  My story lines are not impressive at all – tonight was about a frog named Henry.  But it reminded me of how you used to tell me spontaneous stories sometimes at night after we turned out the light.  They were totally random and didn’t always have a real conclusion, but it was so endearing hearing you swallow in between thinking up the next sentence of your story.  You wanted me to do it too so sometimes I would try, but I just wasn’t as imaginative or uninhibited as you.

When we were dating, you also used to sing me goodnight lullabies over the phone.  We talked every single night just about for five years of dating and the night usually ended with me in bed in the dark with the hot phone pressed up against my ear, about to run out of battery.  And sometimes you’d sing to me, softly, sweetly, like a child almost.

Once we were husband and wife, you started a new tradition.  When we’d turn off the light we would be silent for a while and then you would quietly say, “Good night to you” in your very sweet voice.  It took me by surprise the first time because I expected you to already be asleep- you always fell asleep so quickly while I lay awake thinking.  I hadn’t heard this in a while.  This past year was so tense- we often just shut the light off and turned our backs to each other.  I am sorry for that.  Very sorry.

If you were here, I’d tell you a story, sing you a lullaby, and whisper, “Goodnight to you.”

Goodnight to you my love.