I sit on your couch that is now in my living room and stare at the table in front of it. I remember us going together for you to pick out these things for your apartment. That beautiful wooden table that came from World Market. How you pondered and pondered over it with its intentional scuffs and scratches on it so it would look the way it looked. After looking around, we finally sat on a couch that was for sale that was directly behind the table and we stared at the table for a long, long time. We talked about it, how it was so sturdy and how much character it had. It had drawers and a shelf below it for books. Finally after a long time, after you envisioned it in your apartment, you decided you would get it. It is beautiful.
So today I sit on your couch and I look at that table that still has your Pablo Neruda and CS Lewis books on its shelf. Your cell phone, birthday cards to me from you from me to you inside; the piece of paper that looks like a diploma all rolled up with a black and orange ribbon around it that they gave you when you graduated undergrad, the real diploma is also in there. Your iPod, your journal, your Furmanator brush for you cat Gatito, a quarter, the heel print on the left of the table where you rested your heel when you studied, the piece to the left that you got from Africa, and the vase, and the book box, all the things you will never touch again, fragments of your life in a drawer.
I look over to the table next to me where I have a picture of you framed and look at the birthday card my Momma sent to you this week because your birthday is tomorrow. She said she would see you soon in heaven. I hope it won’t be too soon.
I will see you in heaven too Kaitlyn…..I just don’t know when. I love you with all my heart.
I run my hand across your table, and I remember…..