The kids were with my parents today. I was home alone. I made a microwave version of Pad Thai and sat down at our long lonely table to eat lunch. I glanced up at Shawn’s empty chair and without thinking spontaneously started a conversation with him in my mind. He actually began…
“What are we going to do today? What is on the agenda?”
I could see him sitting there with me enjoying the peanut flavored noodles. He looked like he had just showered and was ready to leave soon for his afternoon shift at work. I responded…
“I was thinking we could…”
He took another bite and grinned. He appeared content and relaxed. His shirt was freshly washed and his arms slightly tanned. It must have been summer. Agreeably he answered…
“Sounds good. I get off work early tonight. When I get home we can start that project and get ready for our hike tomorrow. This is good Pad Thai.”
I continued eating. Satisfied with our plan and even more satisfied that he liked what I had made for lunch. It made my efforts worthwhile. I sat in the comfort of being appreciated. I said…
“Thanks. I am glad you like it. A hike would be nice. I haven’t hiked for nearly a year. I miss it”
The voices started to trail off and instead of having a regular discussion, I was back at the long table by myself. My mood was sullen; a feeling that is all too familiar since Shawn’s death. I could hear my fork clink against my teeth. Since when did I ever pay attention to the sound of my fork? Dialogue doesn’t allow us to listen to such nonsense when there are words to be absorbed. I was overly aware of how still the table sat and how still my heart longed for another exchange with Shawn; even if the subject simply revolved around a micro-waved lunch.
