Good night, Stephanie.

The last thing Stephanie and I said most nights was, “I love you” or “Good night,” which meant the same thing. “Good night, Doug. I love you.” “I love you too, Steph. Sweet dreams.” It seems totally trite to type it, but spoken aloud between us, it was a warm, reassuring way to end the day. It meant a lot to us. It meant more than I understood while she was alive.

For the first month or so after Stephanie’s death, I never said good night. There was no-one to say it to, and I was barely sleeping. I’m sleeping better lately, sometimes even fading away without sleeping pills. There’s still no-one to say good night to, and there never will be, and yet I’ve started saying it again. “Good night, Stephanie. I love you.” It’s sad and silly but soothing, saying such words as I click off the lights and pull up the blanket.

Posted 10/11/2018.

More about Stephanie.


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