house has always felt one room too large.
I still keep the thermostat at the temperature she preferred.
I still sleep on the left side of the bed.
Some habits survive the people who created them.
Then there’s my truck.
A faded blue 1994 Ford pickup.
Dent in the tailgate.
Small crack near the corner of the windshield.
Nothing impressive.
Anyone driving past would probably assume I still owned it because I couldn’t afford something newer.
They’d be wrong.
That truck was practically part of my marriage.
Ellen and I bought it when our son was still in high school.
We took it to the lake every summer.
Carried lumber in it when we built our deck.
Drove it to the hospital when Ellen’s mother had a stroke.
Then drove home from the funeral three days later without saying a word.
When Ellen became ill near the end, I sometimes
