It’s the little, day to day incidents that get me.

It’s when I walk into the grocery story where I took you shopping every week. And go in the side we used to go in, and am confronted with the salad bar. And have to fight the urge to fill a plate exactly how you would want it, which you would tell me every time, despite the fact that I knew it by heart.

It’s when I drive by a motorcycle, and pick up my phone to call you. It’s not until I see your name that I realize you’re not there to call.

It’s when I drive by where you lived. I was there so often, I can’t even stand to drive by it.

It’s when I see a red or grey van. With a working guy inside, doing the kinds of things you used to do. I still look to see if you’re the one driving the van- sometimes you were, and it was always fun to beep and wave, see your smile of surprise, and your wave. It’s realizing I’ll never see that wave again.

It’s going to Panera. And being tempted to get the Caesar salad- without chicken-, broccoli cheddar soup, and a hazelnut coffee. Not because it’s what I liked there.

It’s having to stop myself when someone mentions they need a good electrician in our area. Because I no longer know one.

It’s the fact that I don’t think I’ll be able to go to Outback again. I always hated it there, but went with you. Because you loved it. And if they ever put one in town, I think I’ll cry. You so wanted one in town, and if they put one here you won’t be able to eat it.

It’s when I go to the restaurant we went to when you and mom were first divorced. It’s different- Mexican now- but I still remember so much about that night. It was awkward, and sad, but I now realize how hard you were trying.

It’s remember how much you loved Dairy Queen. Knowing that I got that from you and mom. We are an ice cream group.

It will be Christmas Eve. We always spent it with you guys, and I don’t know what I’ll do this year. Sit home? It was hard figuring out how to split holidays, but it ended up working out. Christmas Eve was always fun at your house. Where will I get pierogies now?

It was when the baby daffodils came out. They were one of your favorite flower, and every year at some point I made it a point to buy you some. You were always so grateful, for the littlest, most silly stuff.

It’s when the car starts to make funny noises. As much as I love Khalil, he’s not a car guy. I’d call you, and you’d lecture me about not changing the oil, or keeping the gas full. But you’d always come get me if I needed you to.

It’s when no one asks about Rory. You asked- every time. And I always felt like it mattered to you. You loved cats, even though mine put you in the hospital that one time when you met her. You still loved her.

It’s going to be when we have children- your grand and great-grand children. Neither one of you will be here, and my children would have been so blessed to know you guys. You both would have been so proud.

It’s the moments when I think of you, and how much I loved you. It makes my heart ache to know that you’re not still here with me.