Two plates in the dishwasher after dinner, not three,
Bedtime with no forehead to kiss, no song to sing.
Grown-up talk at dinner,
Reading a book until I'm ready to put it down,
Television after dark with the volume loud as we want.
Something - someone - is missing ... and missed.
No hugs from my mini-me,
No quiet, "I love you Dad" when I pad quietly past his door before dawn.
Not grown, but growing,
and the 14th of many ties/restrictions/bonds between us has been severed.
(I somehow overlooked the first 13 ... bad luck for me)
My Ben ... I miss him.
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