WP: Tooth

Today’s prompt word is tooth!¹

Viola,

Every time I see the wind run through the clothes on the line, it reminds me of you doing the same. They flip and somersault as if still on you. They double over in silent laughter, and I can see you doing the same. The silence is so loud I can almost hear it.

Every time I smell the petrichor outside, I think of your perfume decorating a room long after you’ve passed through. I’m not sure why it reminds me of you, to be honest; I just know that it does. Perhaps it’s because the scent is fleeting, but always returns.

Every time I hear the ‘clunk’ of the mailman closing the box, I hear your footsteps racing me to see what came. The steady beat of boots or the whispers of slippers or the thuds of sneakers — each step echoes through the house and I almost forget, for just a second, that the steps aren’t really there.

Every time I taste the orange juice, it reminds me of your love for life. Of how, without fail, the proper response to a glass of orange juice is “the best flavor and best color, all in one word”. Of how it’s always the first thing you reach for on a hot summer day.

Every time I feel the letters on your grave, I echo the words in my mind. “Gone, but not forgotten. Taken from us too soon.” Such platitudes may work for some, but they feel so empty. Like your spot on the swing. Like our house. Like your car.

Like me.

Pav suggested I write to you. It feels a little silly, but also cathartic? Some updates from around home: Naomi finally lost her last baby tooth; Dad came down to help out with everything; Monica brought some food. I haven’t been eating much. You’d be disappointed in me. I’m trying, I promise.

I’ve run out of things to say. I’m not sure what I’ll do with this when I’m done; maybe I’ll burn it. At least that way, when the charred words rise towards the sky, there might be a chance that you’ll be able to read them.

Thank you for everything.

Yours, forever and always, in sickness and in health, until death did we part,

~ John