At My Husband’s Funeral, I Opened His Casket to Place a Flower and Found a Crumpled Note Tucked Under His Hands

Listening.

The early journals were exactly what I remembered.

Notes about bills, reminders to fix the car, grocery lists scribbled in the margins. But woven between those ordinary details were pieces of us—small, quiet moments I had forgotten.

“She laughed today at something silly I said. I don’t think she knows how much that sound carries me.”

“Doctor’s appointment didn’t go well. She tried to be brave. I wish I could fix this for her.”