A year ago today this was what my father's desk looked like. Organization. Gadgets. Stacks of cards with daily bible verses. His favorite pens. That strange blob of rubber shaped like a one pound blob of fat. Bills that needed to be paid. His collection of timers. All waiting for him to return home and pick up the life that was put on hold when he had entered the hospital 9 days before.
For a time, after his death, I could feel his presence in his office. I would be sitting in the family room, right next to his den of all things and I just knew that he would becoming out of his office any second with a piece of paper with some interesting article on it that we needed to read. He was there, and he was not.
There are still days when I feel like that.