He Doesn't Live Here Anymore

I filled the kettle with water for the morning and then I remembered
He doesn’t live here anymore
As I was making up the orange juice I realized it was lasting longer
He doesn’t live here anymore
I don’t need to refill the honey jar as often
He doesn’t live here anymore
When I was at Costco I realized I don’t need to buy three packages of English muffins
He doesn’t live here anymore
I stripped his bed; washed the sheets & duvet cover and stored them in the linen closet
He doesn’t live here anymore
I washed his remaining clothes and I packed them in bags
He doesn’t live here anymore
I packed up odds and ends in boxes that he had left behind
He doesn’t live here anymore
When I was hanging up the bath towels I remembered I didn’t need one for him
He doesn’t live here anymore
I don’t need to ask him if he’ll be home for supper
He doesn’t live here anymore
All of the cars now fit in the driveway
He doesn’t live here anymore
I was the last person up so I shut off the living room light before I went to bed
He doesn’t live here anymore

( These were the things I noticed in the first couple of weeks after our eldest son, Chris, was married. The phrase "He doesn't live here anymore" came to mind  and I started writing down the changes I noticed.)