What you love

 Have you ever sat down and thought about what it is you love about someone? What little pieces of them make them unique and special to you. The little things that when added up equal that person. 

Today I was sitting in Aldens office, in my chair just behind his computer chair. A spot the cat would often sit. I haven't had the strength or desire to change a thing in that space. The only difference is that a photo of him now sits where is monitor was. The rest is unchanged. His socks still sit on the chair. A shirt I had looked everywhere for is sitting beside his desk. There are noted and paperwork scattered across the surface of the desk. The desk that he and I peace together during a time when ikea desks were hard to come by. We made 3 of them. Nice long desks. 

As I sit here I see so many parts of him. So many little things that I realize I will never hear or see again in this life. The socks, for example. I have so many sock stories. He and I used to joke that wearing socks was tantamount to wearing 50 layers of clothes. Quite unnecessary. As soon as he would get home from work (when he used to go in) I made sure the first thing that came off were his socks. While we were dating I often got to his apartment before him. But if not, and I saw him home with socks on I would pretend to be offended. It was a constant source of laughter for us. A stupid silly thing that I have no idea how it started. Even though he worked from home he would still put on his socks, so I can make sure they came off once he was done. I would often find socks all over the house because he would remember to take them off in random locations and just leave them there. Once he hurt his back lifting something and for a bit I had to help him put his socks on....and thats just 1 story about socks. Who knew socks could have stories? 

Then there is the half eaten stroopwaffles in the corner of his desk. Those were a gift from me. He fell in love with that cookie while in Amsterdam. Costco sells them at Christmas, and I would always get him some as a special treat. He hadn't finished the pack yet, and they sat at his desk...in a pot he got from his grandmother. 

The notes on his desk? Some are notes from out bathroom plans. Some are work notes. Some notes from doing taxes. Some are just random notes. We sat together, in this spot, and ordered the parts for the shower. Picked the little pieces that would give it the finishing touches. He never got to see any of the things we ordered...

The camp chair I sit on is my own that I had before we were together. A gift from my parents. Once we started dating I took it to Morton so I could sit on it while we were around the fire. He had a similar one. When I brought my chair there it didn't leave for quite some time. Alden would get it out and set it up for me whenever he started a fire. I was sitting in it the first time he called me his future wifey. 

I can almost imagine his point of view while I sit here. He never decorated the room. He always ment to. He thought of even getting a couch for in there. But he never did. All the walls are blank. But I can sit here and almost hear him chatting away while at work. His work consisted of a lot of phone calls. I can almost hear his chuckle laugh as he listens to someone on the other end. His side comments about something I had joked with him about. Then I look at the door. I remember all the times I would stand at the door. My little signal for him that I wanted to talk to him. So many times he'd pause a conversation "hold on, my wife needs to talk to me for a sec"...I can almost hear him as I sit in his office, calling to me - "heeey wifey!?" In his sing song way he did. 

See, it's the little things. His socks, his notes. His work and his walls. His laugh and his voice. To say I miss him just doesn't even begin to illustrate what I miss. He was so much more than my husband. Than an amazing boss. Than a good friend. I miss all the things. All the little things that just made him...him. And special to me. 

I hate that sometimes words cannot really convey an emotion....that they seem to fall short of a feeling. I can say I miss the rain but that missing...that has no comparison at all to missing my husband. Not even in the same universe when it comes to meaning. 

It's hard to not have the words. To not be able to properly convey what it is like to miss someone like that. But until we find a way to share our emotions...words are all I have. 

I miss you Alden Lavin. My very soul misses you. I miss everything about you. You are my person. Always will be.