Yesterday

Warm notes of nutmeg, clove, cinnamon, and vanilla envelop my senses.

All the scents and flavors of this season always take me back to the past.

They embrace me like the warmth of your hugs,

And the comfort of being in the kitchen with you.

.

As I turn the handle on the grinder,

It’s as though you are here beside me,

Checking over my shoulder to see if there are enough onions and celery.

Ensuring the stuffing will be just right.

.

Every autumn and winter, I find myself needing to remember my tenses.

There will be no more calls or shared celebrations.

Each year, that reminder is like an assault on my senses.

I never imagined that you wouldn’t be here.

.

The heat in the kitchen, the dough in my hands bring me to our very last…

Well, our last everything.

Not that we knew any of those moments would be our last,

Or rather I didn’t. Did you?

.

If only I had known that each moment,

Mundane or unique should be memorized.

That each was to be our last.

That the connection of a lifetime was about to be severed for all time.

.

I would’ve lingered in your hug.

Had I known it would be the last time you’d be able to embrace me.

I would’ve listened more closely to every word,

Had I known it would be our last conversation.

.

I would’ve memorized your every expression,

Had I known it would be our last day together.

I would’ve held on and never let go,

Had I known that would be the last time you’d ever hold my hand.

.

I would’ve shut out the rest of the world and given you my undivided attention,

Had I known that that would be the last time I’d hear your voice.

If only I had known…

That those were to be our last everything.

.

Every year, these flavors and fragrances take me back,

To the warmth of your kitchen,

The comfort of your arms,

The reassurance of your smile.

.

They transport me back to our yesterdays

When you were still here,

And death hadn’t yet taken you so far away.

The memory of every past holiday is tied up in my memories of you.

.

It’s strange to have children who will never know you,

Nor your love, your warmth, your laughter.

You are such an integral part of who I am,

Who I became and who I hope to be.

.

You will live on forever in my heart, and in my memories too.

Although, it’s not the same.

I’d give anything for you to be here

And to spend one last holiday with you.

. . .

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This poem was originally published on Medium.