I miss the having someone to share my day with.  The everyday, what-did-you-do, how-are-you-doing, what’s-for-dinner, and what-are-we-doing-tonight -ness of it all.

I miss someone walking in the door, right now, and saying, “this is all you did all day?  Wine and fudge for dinner?  Wait, why am I complaining?”

I miss someone sneaking out for a smoke on the deck, trying to convince to come with, that it’s not that cold, and oh look at all the stars you can see!

For that matter, I miss the distant smell of smoke in my bed every night.

I miss someone making feel sexy, making me feel like a woman, an adult, someone who can handle her own… and he loves her for it.  And feels the compulsion to buy her nice lingerie just because he thinks she’s worth it.

I miss the someone I’d take roadtrips with, here and there and everywhere, long and short.  The guy who knew what a Perkins meant, got excited for points at Super 8, and knew how to pack the car for a day on the road.

I miss the guy I had to convince to go on a cruise, and was so excited once he got there that he didn’t want to come home.

I miss having someone here on a lazy weekend mornings, teasing me into getting out of bed, cooking the world’s best omelettes every Sunday for brunch and finding odd TV shows I never knew existed but are highly intriguing.  And going to the bar later, or dinner, or getting together with friends…. Just going where the day takes us.

I miss everything about my life with him.  From his crazy job, to our nights at the bar, finding a new beer, our familiar haunts.  Coming home to him, texting him, cooking for him, sitting on the deck with him.  I miss going to bed alone and knowing he’ll be in, kissing him good bye in the mornings and leaving with the sight of his hairy chest in my mind’s eye.  Snuggling my nose in his chest hair.  Our simple routines, our simple life, our simple happiness with how we were living and who we were.  I don’t know anyone who’s ever had that – to me, it’s as unique and special as the first time you see a rainbow, or a unicorn.  Sheer and simple contentment in being… no pressure, no goals, just living and enjoying what we got.  It’s not the American way, but he was an American man – a patriot, a man dedicated to giving back, and intent on living his life the way he saw fit.  I’m so blessed that he saw fit to share his life with me.  It’d be crazy not to miss him, and it might be crazy to miss him forever.  But I think that’s just what I’m going to do.

Reminders pop up when you least expect them.

His job largely informed our way of life.  He was on the road as often as he wasn’t, and hotels were “home” if I was in them.  I’m watching all these news stories of the storms in Ohio and further east, and seeing on Facebook how many people’s husbands are heading out to get the lights back on (and a/c) for everyone who’s without power.  It reminds me why he got into the job in the first place – he always had to have a job where he gave back.  It reminds me how excited he was to get called out on storm work, how much he was looking forward to that call.

I suppose it reminds me how special he was – that he chose this career not many people can do, and those who do it give it their all.  It reminds me how characteristic it was of him to automatically do what was right, regardless how much he’d whine about it to me.  It’s one of my favorite things about him, this big, burly guy, quietly doing what needs done for the people he loved.

And I'm still so very, very proud of him for that.  I have to believe that he knows that.