Out of habit 

she took two forks out of the drawer 

then looked up to realize she was alone. 

She answers questions in the plural present tense: “We…” 

Realizing that all of those stories are in the past 

abruptly dead-ended, never to be repeated again. 

Memories painful 

Songs setting off floods of unexpected tears 

“Photographs and memories, Christmas cards you sent to me

All that I have are these to remember you…” 

Tissues always close at hand. 

Someone told her, “It’d have been better if he just died. 

Then you’d have only good memories” 

—as devastating as that would be. 

But now it’s that much harder to reconcile 

the man he was and the man he has come to be.