Text messages

Sometimes I scroll through old text messages between me and Mark, especially when I am really missing him and longing to have a conversation with him.  Occasionally when he was at work, I would call him - he didn't seem to mind it.  He was always the first person I thought of when I wanted to talk to someone.  I would call him the minute I left Mom's house and he would help ground me in my own safe and loved bubble of reality. (visiting mom could do a number on me) 

 But I feel like we really didn't get enough talking time. 

I bet every widow feels that.

cheers!

The last text messages we exchanged will live in my phone forever.  They are proof of life.  We would talk about what the weekend's weather was going to be like as we made our plans.  Or talk about our lunch that day.  Around the time of Covid, he would text me about when and where he was getting the first shot, then the second, then "when are you getting your jab?"  He was worried about it.  I would remind him to turn the crockpot to warm, or tell him I was picking up take-out because I didn't feel like cooking dinner.  To ask him what he thought about me taking on over-time hours at work, or remind him that I was on call this weekend.  To let him know I was running late because of traffic.  And the very last two texts were me asking him if we could go somewhere to drink a beer instead of staying in that Friday evening.  He never replied.  I sent the text at 4:48 p.m., less than an hour before he would die suddenly of a massive heart attack.

Sometimes I imagine his response.

"yeah, I'm down with that.  Dinner at Rancho?  Whataburger?  you call it."

I'm going to top off the grass, get a shower, then I'll be ready to boogie!"

"see you when you get here, girlfriend!"