I miss him on Mondays. I last saw him on a Monday night when he came home from a meeting at church just as I was headed to bed to watch CSI:Miami. He needed to type up a quiz for his students before coming to bed. I don't watch CSI:Miami anymore.
I miss him on Tuesdays. He died on a Tuesday. It was raining and cold and the paramedics were worried about tracking mud on the carpet. That's all I have to say about that.
I miss him on Wednesdays. He had prayer group on Wednesday nights and there was usually a good chance he would be home earlier than other nights of the week, usually to watch The West Wing with me. The West Wing isn't on the air anymore but I think of him everytime I catch a rerun on Bravo.
I miss him on Thursdays. I would be folding laundry and ironing his pants and shirts when he got home from worship team practice. I don't have to iron anymore and there are far fewer socks to fold.
I miss him on Fridays. Fridays used to be his day off and we would spend the day together. The church took more and more of his time and he stopped taking his day off but we used to have fun just doing the mundane together like grocery shopping, laundry, exploring the city. I do everything by myself now and it is truly mundane.
I miss him on Saturdays. He loved to cook on the grill, even in the winter. He cooked great steaks and chicken and ribs. And he made wonderful fried chicken. And sometimes he would surprise me and we would go out for breakfast on Saturday mornings, usually IHOP. I haven't been to IHOP in so long.
I miss him on Sundays too. He used to get soo excited about leading and preaching. Until the leading and preaching became a job and not a joy. It was work that he loved until others stole his love and killed his spirit. They robbed me of his smile. I don't go to church anymore.
I miss him every day that ends in "y".