Hey. Do you remember how I used to wake you up in the morning? After a long over night shift, I couldn’t wait to come home to hold you. Even if we argued like crazy the night before. I was a nasty person those days and always instigated a fight. But I loved you through it all. I would always come home with flowers or something to say I was sorry for being an asshole.
I had a routine. Around 9 o’clock I would pull into my parking spot. I’d slowly and quietly walk in the door. Bella (our cat) would always be waiting there to say hello to daddy. I’d go into the kitchen to put my lunchbox away and wash my hands because I need clean hands to touch perfection. Sometimes, I would stand at the doorway just staring at you for a couple of seconds. Just taking you in. Admiring you a little bit.
You always had to sleep with the covers off your feet. I would kiss you literally from your feet…up your leg....then your ass....then your stomach....your chest…up your neck…until finally I reach your precious smiling face. Then I’d plant a nice wet one on your lips. No matter what had happened, I tried to make sure you woke up happy. I hope you still wake up happy. I know I don’t. Some mornings, especially after a dream of you, I look over to see an empty space. I’ll stretch my hand out to see if you’re actually gone…And you are.
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