We don’t talk about it in this household.

The emotions, the grief, the day he died.

We smile at each other, words unspoken.

We act like we’re fine, we all know the other isn’t.

We woke up, our hearts heavy.

The hours and the minutes bring us closer.

To three hundred and sixty-five days. 

That’s how long it’s been today.

Not yet, but it’s getting there.

And it’s why I know we won’t fall asleep tonight.

I will remember the phone calls I didn’t answer.

She will remember the call she did.

And my mother… the call she made.

We don’t talk about those things. 

It’s too hard to acknowledge.

So, we smile at each other, words unspoken.

Emotions we’ll never admit we all felt.

Our household holds shared grief.

One person. Different relationships.

A dad, my best friend. 

A father, her trusted parent.

A husband, the love of her life. 

It’s still there at the bottom of our souls. 

Filling us up with things we’ll never get to say to him. 

Love. Unspoken. Unshared. Unmoving.

But now there’s no place for it to go.

So, we smile at each other, words unspoken.

Life has changed. 

In three hundred and sixty-five days. 

We’ve laughed. We’ve cried. 

We’ve lived. We’ve died, just a little. 

Life has changed. Gone on without him.

But when the clock hits midnight, 

I’ll remember setting my phone to quiet.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Fate knew it had found its moment.

None of us will shut our eyes.

Maybe squeeze them close to cry.

Hearts heavy. A part of our soul gone. 

But what’s the point?

So, we’ll smile at each other, words unspoken.

My life… will go on.

-P