I Miss You the Most

I Miss You the Most

I miss you the most when I’m bored.
I can’t just call you or text you for my amusement.

I miss you the most in the morning.
I’m still not a morning person, and my night owl tendencies are coming back – and without benefit. I’m still struggling with kids in the morning.

I miss you the most when I’m driving.
I can’t call you to help pass the time and catch up on my day.

I miss you the most at dinner time.
I working on figuring out cast iron. The gas stove still confounds me. You made the best fried chicken, panko chops, BBQ. I’ll never have paella again. The kids aren’t adventurous; meals aren’t the same.

I miss you the most when I’m home.
You were never able to sleep here, to see it complete, or help me make final decisions.

I miss you the most when I’m traveling.
You loved seeing new places, revisiting places we’d been. You typically plan the big trips. I’ve done it twice, but now I have to plan the trip out west with the kids by myself. And take it without you. It’s not fair.

I miss you the most when I’m trying on clothes.
I need your reassurance that I look OK; I’m still not comfortable with me.

I miss you the most when I need help with something I know you can do.
Or could do. Little things like redirecting the vents in the ductwork, installing shelves, or building shelves. Big things like getting firewood off the hill and ready for the winter.

I miss you the most when I say something you used to say.
I’m vertical – and you’re not.

I miss you the most when I brush my teeth.
Your toothbrush is there. So is the 2nd sink that’s not used.

I miss you the most when I can’t answer the kid’s questions.
Some things, you just know more about than me. It’s true.

I miss you the most when I realize that so many things I worry about, I wouldn’t be worrying about if you were here.

I miss you, then I get angry, then I get sad, grateful for those around me, guilty for being angry, and then, I miss you.
             
I miss you the most when I write about you.
You are always on my mind.

I miss you the most when I have to adult.
I don’t always want to make decisions for me by myself. Let alone for the house and the kids.

I miss you the most when I finally go to bed.
Hugging a pillow isn’t the same as holding you.

I miss you the most when other people miss you.
Because not only do I feel their pain, I feel mine.

I don’t miss you alone.
But I miss you the most.