I was making my coffee this morning, and I poured in the cream—creating swirls of white, and as I dipped the spoon and began to stir, I thought of your voice.
“Why?” I thought. Why do simple every day acts make me think of you? Why is it when I comb my hair, I can feel your fingers against my scalp? Why do I think it’s your breath when the wind blows and raises the flesh on my neck? Why do the stars in the sky remind me of the clusters of life in yours?
Because you’re everything. You live and breathe in all things that surround me. You’re a treasure and I love you fondly.