I woke up, my cold eyes looked left and right, darting for my inhaler. My hand met it, and hard Puffs of air pressed down my throat. My room felt empty, and her clothes lay in disarray on the floor. The room still smelled like her perfume, and her cup of water that she got every night, now lay sterile on her bedside.

her favorite candle was still lit in the corner of the room. Pictures of smiling nieces and nephew hung to the right of the dresser, and old songs discs lay scattered on top.

I remember she loved picking out her outfits everyday, scattered colors of pinks and blues and oranges and yellows. She would match them with jewelry that was much more than she could afford.

Everyday that she would wake up and get dressed, she would ask me, “Dan, do I look beautiful today?” and I would always tell her, “yes love, you look beautiful.” She would smile discretely, and sway her arms to her side.

before I could reminisce about her anymore, a sliver of the sun cut through my window, and I quickly got dressed, racing down the stairs as fast as my old legs could carry. I creaked open the door to feel the sun rays lean down and kiss my skin, leaving me in awe and shock.

I sat down at the side door, and lighted up her favorite candle, the sweet rose aroma covering the room. I felt the orange and pink and purple colors splatter across the sky, forming its own beautiful painting. Each color splattered just perfectly in the right spot, hovering over the horizon, and licking the trees in the distance.

I sat there as the sky changed her favorite colors, pinks and oranges and yellows. And before I could let a tear fall, I turn to the sky and say, “Yes love, you look beautiful.