This post is for Yeah Write’s weekly fiction/poetry challenge. This is the first time I’ve tried to write using a prompt. This week’s prompt is “I may have to start making my Bed”. Read on!
She’s gone. From my bed, my home and my life. My mind and heart however, are still clinging on to her. We’ve shared too many memories to let go so easily. I am so habituated to a life with her, to our daily routine, to our banter and our bickering that nothing makes sense anymore. She is still that annoying voice of reason in my head. But I fear I will forget how it sounds as time goes by. I feel like that kid in school whose best friend didn’t show up and he has to make it through the day alone.
50 years is a long time to be together. Well meaning relatives and friends drop by with casseroles and condolences, but there is still a gaping void which no one can fill. I always feel her presence pottering around the house. A strand of fiery red hair somewhere in the house catches me unawares and I am shoved once again into memory lane.
Death really is harder on the living. Like a toddler learning to take his first steps, I have to learn to live without her. I have to start picking up pieces of my life and try to make some sense out of them. Those casseroles will start dwindling, so I may have to start cooking soon. She is still alive in the creases of the bedspread. If I have to continue living, I may have to start making my bed.
