Just the way it is

Yes, it's true. I think about my husband every day. Every day.

Surprised?

Sometimes I just miss him. Yesterday I grumbled at him because I had to grab a big spider with a kleenex and smish it and get it to the toilet. So unpleasant. His job, you know.

Sometimes I'm in tears. Sometimes laughing at some silly thing he said or did. Sometimes remembering things from very long ago, like playing checkers in our little basement apartment in Provo. He would get mad if I beat him. Or how we laughed as we listened to our Bill Cosby record or the Smothers Brothers. Same place. Before children.

Sometimes I think he didn't know what he had. I'm talking about me. And sometimes I think I didn't know what I had. I mean him.