The pillows
you bought last year for the futon 
are lovely shades 
of lavender and blue
and we both loved them
yet we knew right away
they weren’t nearly big enough.

So, I bought larger ones 
in a complementary color
to slip behind them.
I hope you don’t mind.

The dining room tablecloth
of earthy browns and deep reds
we have had for years
has never been my favorite
(sorry for not telling you)
and especially now
as I seek out cheerier colors.

So, I put a bright floral tablecloth
of many colors 
on the table
and may go in search of others like it.
I hope you don’t mind.

Reddish brown pottery pieces
you picked up at local pottery sales
have been displayed on a shelf
one taller than the other
and while the designs 
carved by the artists on them 
are intriguing
the colors have never appealed to me.

So, they are now in a box
in the garage
that will eventually go 
to the thrift store.
I hope you don’t mind.

The living room
where the final weeks of your life
were spent in a hospital bed
looking out at the trees and plants
rabbits, squirrels and birds
needed a feng shui makeover
which I’ve attempted
complete with a little garden 
of green and flowering plants
in the windowed corner of the room
on what was your puzzle table.

At this table
where you stood
often gently moving to music
while working a puzzle
I have placed the living urn
gleaming white
with a Hawaiian Umbrella tree 
planted and nurtured 
in the soil with you.
I hope you don’t mind.
(In fact, I hope it pleases you.)

I’m not trying to erase anything, sweetheart,
about our lovely life together.

But I realize I can’t leave everything the same
or I will soon be mired in the past.

And I can’t change everything either
(nor do I want to)
or I might become forgetful
of all that was so beautiful 
about you and me
together.

So, I make room
in the here and now moments
of each new day
to simply be present
to that which opens up before me
like a holy invitation
to live again.

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson