Five months, one day

It is a beautiful evening and I sat out on the patio. I was waiting, waiting to hear the purr of the engine of Bryons motorcycle signaling that he was about home. Only thing is, it's gone. Ed and his friend have been cleaning out Bryons workshop and his friend expressed an interest in the old bike. He promised it would be treasured and ridden. Bryon is gone, the bike is gone. I feel that while it has to be done, cleaning out the workshop is like cleaning out vestiges of Bryon. No longer can I delude myself that he is in Montana, no, he is dead. I don't know how I have managed to get by for 5 months, I look for him, wait for him to come up the back stairs.My mind trips back to those "last" time he did things, touch the banister, open the door, told me he loved me. I still feel his love.
I love you Bryon and thank you, thank you for 23 wonderful years.