A Cupfull of Yesterday

On rainy Monday nights in the fall when I make a huge bowl of apple cider...and when the wind crashes angrily against my living room window, I miss you. And I realize that I have missed you all along,but attempting to cope I hurried along life's busy road, never stopping to acknowledge that I felt a void. Never letting myself cry when forgetting I reached for your hand, found none and pretended to have never reached at all. Until now when I sit in what used to be your favorite recliner,watching the candles whose flames cast dancing shadows on the wall. Fall scents embrace me, perhaps a little more than I have recently allowed anyone to hold me. But I let them in,I let myself go back to the little things that represent you, like cinnamon and caramel apple spice. Until I finally start to feel you, just enough to know how badly I need you to be here and how cold this place has become. Sometimes we convince ourselves that moving on is healthier, but it might be that moving on is easier. Easier than lingering in places that still feel like they used to be and yet no longer are, easier than sitting alone,in a semi-lit room drinking the apple cider I poured for you.