318 days…

In a rather stupid attempt to get away from the horror stories on the tv, I decided to clean out the office.

To be more specific – to clean out your things from the office.

The hoarded bits of paper.

The scraps of notes.

The drawings of machines you never built.

The solutions to engineering dilemmas.

The car manuals for vehicles we no longer own.

The tractor magazines.

…. the brochures and maps from our honeymoon trip to Tasmania.

… the odd photo of you which was simultaneously a gift, but tore my hear out that you aren’t here.

…..and the birthday and anniversary cards we gave each other with such sweet words.

I’m really feeling your absence this week.

I need you here to hug me, to help me process the absolute soul-destroying tragedy that has struck our State.  Their stories make be nauseous and shaky and take me back to the day of my first knowing of grief.

I miss you.

I love you.