This is a Really Real Widow Post.

Sometimes the smallest things take me back.  Driving home on mobility today the driver commented on a street near my house that was incredibly steep.  I responded it was no fun to walk it.

Suddenly I could just barely see, over on the sidewalk, Parker walking up the hill beside me, holding my hand, on our way home from the mall.

Lost in a daydream I barely remember finishing my conversation with the driver.

These flashbacks are treasured gifts.   Moments in time that I get to relive, remembering Parker, still breathing, beside me.

I never know when they will show up, I can’t will them into existence.  Most of the images I see in my head are from the few pictures we took over the years, or from that final moment that I saw her, which is forever etched in my mind.

When she shows up in my dreams, she’s often just outside of the frame, I know she’s there but I can’t see her, can’t touch her, often can’t even quite hear her.  I can no longer recall her voice at will.

But sometimes I get this rare gift, and I can barely see, Parker walking up the hill beside me, holding my hand, on our way home from the mall.