I miss..

(july 28, 2009 - the day after Cindy died)


I miss the "Hey, Johnson" when I come thru the door.
I miss the "take a Tylenol if your legs are so sore."
I miss the glance of "who will make supper?"
I miss all the things that were super-duper.

I miss laying down in our bedroom at night.
And listening for breaths, especially when they were slight.
I miss "brush your teeth" as a reminder to Willy
I miss her teasing him and making him feel silly.

I miss calling the doctor and asking for more pills
I miss being able to care for her ills.
I miss being able to get her some food.
I miss wondering whether we can do any good.

I miss saying to her:  "Who loves you today?"
And finding so many who had said they would pray.
I miss hearing her toothbrush, buzzing along.
I miss being able to sing her a song.

But most of all I miss her love for us four
Who still must go in and out of that door
To the world that just goes on in it's hurriedly way
Yet we still remember just what she would say:

"I love you guys, have a great time, and God bless."
"And don't do anything that will cause a big mess."
"Be sure to remember what God wants you to do."
"And then you'll be sure that He'll bring you right through."