I Asked Him to Make a Noise
I was looking through a scrapbook and an album of photos of Al. It's been almost four years since he died. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering "us." It seems like it was someone else's life, not mine. I look for signs that maybe he's still with me--somehow. I ask him to make a noise or something, but nothing ever happens.
When I first sat down at the computer, it felt like someone touched my leg. But there was no one there. I asked for it to happen again--it didn't. My imagination the first time?
I'm not sure what happens when we die. Is there more than this? One thing for sure, we'll all know one day.
I'm still sick and feeling kind of flu-ish. I hope I can make it to the surgery, and I don't end up in the ER. I've been working on it. It bothers me most to eat spicy food. I can almost get away with a little fat. I will be so happy to be able get my life back together. I've tried so hard, but when you're sick lots of things don't go the way you'd planned.
I'm going to practice a little piano and then go to bed.
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