One month since I bid him farewell. One month since I last kissed his cheek and stroked his beard. One month since I took a deep whiff of his familiar smell, a habit I picked up over the years. One month since my tears rolled down my cheeks and fell on his forehead. One month since I watched his body being lowered into the ground and covered with earth. One month since his soul left his body and went back to the Creator.
Soon this one month will turn into months and years. I know it will get easier because life has to go on.
But it has been a month of sadness and getting used to him being gone. It’s been a month of feeling a familiar tug at my heart when the phone buzzes and I think it’s him. Old habits.
A few weeks before he passed, he cracked a joke when I told him I fall asleep thinking about him, sleep thinking about him and wake up thinking about him. He told me I stole that line from a song. Funny guy. I really didn’t. But even with him gone, I still fall asleep, sleep and wake up thinking about him. But this time, it’s thoughts about good memories instead of worries about his declining health.
It’s only been a month. It’ll get better. It has to.
But when I look into our baby girl’s eyes, I see him. And that’s forever.