Member-only story
Dear Ben / Your View
3–22–2025
When you were here, your spot in the living room was on the end of the sofa. Mine, then and now, the swivel-rocker next to the wall.
Since you passed, I’ve sat in your spot a few times, usually to be near Syau, who often sleeps on the sofa.
Last week, I sat in your spot and looked out to the backyard beyond the porch and the glass patio doors. I’ve certainly taken in that view before, but that day was the first time I thought, This was Ben’s view every day.
For 2,543 days — from June 2, 2017, our first day in our townhome, to May 19, 2024, the day you died — that was your view.
That thought was surprisingly warm and tender.
Looking where you looked for 2,543 days connected me with you in a new way. The view from my chair is different. I never thought about that before. I never thought about what you saw.
It’s a small thing that feels gigantic.
Missing you always . . .
© Dennett 2025
