Before I leave the house in the morning I make a mental check-list of all the little things to make sure I didn't forget anything. Did I take out the garbage? Did I put my cards in the mailbox? Did I water the hanging flower baskets? Did I forget the dry cleaning? Although my husband has been gone for several years now and I no longer grieve his loss like the first year after he died, time still reminds me of all the little things he used to do, like:
take out the garbage...make the coffee...change the cat litter...feed the cat...buy stamps...pay the bills...change the oil...cut the grass....water the flowers...scrub the porch...call the cable guy...fill the bird feeders...take out the newspapers...order a pizza...wash the car...clean out the garage...balance the checkbook...make reservations...call the repairman...lift the heavy stuff...change light bulbs...reboot the computer...pick up my prescriptions...call the Vet...put up the Christmas tree...climb into the attic...find the right tool....shampoo the carpet...paint the bedroom...hang up pictures...put together anything with instructions...
And I especially miss the little things, like how he would:
buy me funny cards...say I love you...smell like English Leather...compliment my cooking...watch chick flicks with me...refill my morning coffee...tell jokes and stories with his brand of humor......meet me for lunch...sit on the front porch...grill out steaks...call our daughters everyday...help out the neighbors...go to Walmart with me on Saturday nights...watch his favorite basketball team or football team and beam with excitement....and a hundred other little things I probably took for granted.
