With Broken Wings (2013)

Gone Too Soon

Cards, sitting on the round glass table, spread unevenly just the way he left them. A half finished game of solitaire waiting for an ending.

The armchair by the front door, empty despite all the people crowded around the room. There are not enough seats but no one ever sits there, choosing the cold floor instead. Sometimes we take turns, curled up in the comfort of your smell and try to remember what it felt like to be in your arms instead. 

The tub of peanut butter on the counter, now left un-touched when once it would have been gone in minutes. No one seems to have an appetite for it the way they used to anymore.

The green onions sitting in the mug on the kitchen table, glass sparkling as the sun shines through the large window beside it. No one seems to want to move them because that would be admitting that you're gone, and we can't seem to do that. Not yet.

The swinging bench on the back porch where we all used to congregate, now forever sitting still and collecting cobwebs because we're afraid to disturb any fragile reminder of our memories with you.

The half-empty bag of decaf coffee in the cupboard that we can't seem to bring ourselves to throw away. It holds so many memories, triggers so many thoughts that we don't seem to be ready to move on from just yet.

The old lawnmower in the garage, John Deere if I remember rightly, the one thing we've had to sell. We have a new one now but I don't think it'll ever be as well liked as the old one because this one doesn't hold any memories of you.

The vegetable garden, now fenced in.

The empty red, wheeled, chair by the computer downsairs. The computer that blew up and now has to be replaced. Is it sad that I miss the old piece of junk even though I always used to complain about how slow it was and how long the dial-up connection took? It was just another thing that used to remind me of you, and now it's gone too. 

We're losing the small bits we used to keep, the ones related to you, too fast for me to keep up. I never want anything to change but somewhere inside I know that it has to, someday.

The curling club certificates hanging on the wall outside the washroom, those we will never let go of I think. They were too special to you to just throw out or give away. 

These are just a few of the things that remind me of you. Thinking about you, trying to remember, leads me to memories in every single room. You were everywhere it seems. Outside, upstairs, at night or first light, it didn't matter. You feature in so much of my childhood that sometimes it's hard to remember the times without you.

Surrounded by people, or even all alone. The beach, in the dark, as the fireworks fly. The docks, before sunset, as we gave fishing a try. So many memories I'll never forget. Just wish you were here so I didn't have to let the memories and pictures be all I have left.

You were gone too soon and part of me will never be the same without you. Like a shooting star, you touched so many lives and burnt brightly until the end. On my darkest days, you were there to guide me and make them a little better. I wish you could see how much your memory will always mean to me, because I wasn't there to give you a proper goodbye.

At least I got that much though, right? The last thing I ever said to you was goodbye, hoping we'd be back to see you soon, and maybe part of me always knew because that was the last time I saw you. I'm sorry. I love you.