The things bring you comfort are strange. Some of them make sense, but others less so.
My car is scuffed up. It has been for a number of years. I was pissed about it at the time. Joey was driving and bumped into something that I figured was obvious and could have been avoided. He was supposed to fix it and never did. That irritated me.
I had my car cleaned recently. It came out bright and shiny, with the exception of a few run of the mill bumps and dings. And then there is that one big one; the one I was pissed about.
He never fixed it and I’m glad he didn’t. It brings me comfort. It’s proof he was here. Evidence of our life together.
I miss my husband.