What’s Up

Sometimes a song whispers what I’m thinking. And then sometimes a song screams it. This is THAT song. My Joe loved this song. Every time it came on, he’d sing along. I always laughed that he knew it. But he was open to all music, and for whatever reason this one spoke to him.

This evening, as I was wandering around the house dripping all the faucets and opening cabinet doors because it’s going to get down to 18 degrees tonight, I found myself singing it. So, I stopped and found it on his playlist (of course) and turned the music up.

When it was over, I wanted to step outside and scream at the top of my lungs because I felt it in my soul.

All the little things that Joe used to do for us are now on me. And every time I have to do one of those things, I am reminded of his absence. Not that I need reminders, but the little things magnify the void he left behind.

And honestly, I don’t want to do any of those things!

I want him to be here to do them for us. I want him here to complain about the cold weather. He hated the wintertime. I want him here to drive me to work in his truck when the roads get icy. I want him here to post the same damn picture of himself on Facebook from a long time ago standing in the snow in our front yard.

I just want him here. I can’t believe he isn’t.

Yesterday the house alarm went off while I was at work. The security company called and asked if I wanted them to send the police. I told them yes because it appeared someone had broken into our house. Turns out a cobweb triggered the motion sensor in the hall.

Guess who used to do the dusting?

I’m going to keep trudging up that great big hill of hope, if you hear me screaming “what’s going on?”, just ignore me.