Images flash as I stand
alone
in Oma's house

The things are here
the remainders of a life well lived

But the animating force
The life itself
is no more

There will be no more gatherings
No more raucous debates about
football or politics
No more screaming kids or blaring music.

The life has left this place

But not the love.

I can still smell her
My heart tells me this will fade
So I drink in all that I can to keep her with me
forever.