A Widow on Father’s Day

I woke up today and rolled over to your side of the bed.

If I close my eyes and try really hard, I can still smell you;

the faint scent of sawdust mixed with the cleanliness of Irish Spring.

Today is Father's Day and I don't know how to react...

My two beautiful, grown daughters lost their Dad in February

to a cancer that just a year ago had started to engulf his body.

It took him so fast that we had no idea last year

that at this same time he would be gone.

Decades of traditions are rendered past notions so quickly

and I feel the sting of loneliness as other families celebrate.

My heart aches for the once monotonous task of card shopping

and my brain fantasizes about your face while you read

the quirky, funny card from our oldest and

the sentimental one from our youngest- which always

brought a bit of grateful moisture to your eyes...

The only tears that are shed now are in your memory

and I wish I could tell you all of this in person.

We love you, Steve. And miss you more than we can ever say.

Happy Father's Day.