The Table

It used to be so hard to hear your name. Clients would ask who made the beautiful table in my salon, and I’d smile softly and say, “you,” while something inside me quietly fell apart. For a long time I thought about letting it go, just so I wouldn’t have to feel that ache every single day  the reminder of what once was. But time has a way of softening sharp edges. Now I can say your name without breaking. Now I can look at that table and remember not the loss, but the love, the peace, and the joy that once filled that space. And somehow, that feels like healing.