I still think about the last normal conversation we had

I still think about the last normal conversation we had.

Not because it was important. That’s the thing. It wasn’t.

We were probably talking about groceries, dinner, something on TV, who needed to do what the next day. The kind of conversation you have thousands of times when you’re married.

I don’t even remember exactly what was said.

What gets me is that neither of us knew it was the last time we’d talk like that. The last conversation before everything became appointments, bad news, hospitals, fear, and eventually grief.

People ask what I miss most. It’s not some grand romantic moment. It’s being able to talk about absolutely nothing with the person I shared my life with.

I think about that conversation more than I should. Not because of what was said, but because it was the last moment when life was still just life.