After

No coffee flavor wafts into the bedroom in the morning—

 Cat fur coats his pillow—

 The dinner dishes sit unmoved an hour later—

 The small wad of cash in my purse is no longer enough— 

It’s a darker dark when the power goes out—

 Pockets have new purpose, holding keys and cash at times—

 Short trips in the car increase threefold: his, mine and ours—

 Cats now go in and out the screened porch door forty times a day—

 Cell phone operation is still a mystery—

 The GPS is comfort and a modicum of freedom—

Emma mysteriously appears before the first tear reaches the cheek–

 A familiar voice on the answering machine says every day, “I’ll see you later.”

 Yes, yes, you will.

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