What I Miss



Paul loved playing the piano

What I Miss

Twelve years didn’t erase him.
He is still with me everyday.
The memories haven’t dimmed.
I clearly see his face,
his clear blue eyes, his buzzed hair
in my mind.

I miss hearing him
play his music
as his bent fingers
lightly trickled up
and down the keyboard.
I miss hearing his footsteps
on the stairs and
hardwood floors
as he prowled
around the house at night.
I miss hearing his deep voice
as he said, “hello”
when he came home from work

I also miss his expertise.
He solved our computer problems at night
leaving carefully written instructions
in his childish printing
for us to find the next morning.

I don’t miss his smoking,
I don’t miss his bad moods
during his last few years,
I don’t miss that his sickness
sometimes made him angry
and me angry at him.
No, I don’t miss those things.

But, I don’t think about them.
I just think about the things
about him that I miss.

2008, 2011

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Comments

  1. Thinking of you, and of Paul. Always.

    Wishing you holidays filled with love, peace, and only the best of memories.

    xoxo
    bru

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