I had yet to begin cleaning out Richard’s things. They still lingered in the kitchen, the closets, the den. I couldn’t even delete his old files from the computer. Some of them were years old, but I needed something to hold onto. Fifteen years of marriage, yet I still felt like the memories would become hazy.
Our daughter, Sarah, behaved differently than me. I daresay even better than I had. Everything Richard had been purged from her room. She no longer hung about the house. She’d come in and go straight to her room.
“This place feels like he’s still here, Mom.” She would look at me sadly, but on the edge of her voice was disgust. “Let him go. He was horrible.”
I didn’t know how to respond then, nor do I know how to now when she sees something of his and gives me that same look. Shame still floats on the edge of her sadness. I simply look away. She looks too much like Richard in those moments.
Our son, Andrew, keeps to himself too, now. He used to be very outgoing, popular. He’s become stoic, but sometimes he’ll have an outpouring of emotion. Those days are becoming less and less.
So you see? You couldn't have come at a better time. It's like it was ordained. I think, I have to believe, that vacuum cleaner is just what I need; I'd love to discuss it more with you. Did anyone ever tell you, you look like George Clooney? George is the kind of guy I should have married. Wait. Where are you going? Come on in!
Opening: Xiexie.....Continuation: Anon.