When Someone you know dies.
[holding his late wife’s hand] …would have also reminded us both of that secret but happy truth we kept from each other, that hidden reality that is equal parts embarrassment and giddy joy: that we’re just kids. Bearing children, feeding mortgages, facing adult sized hardships never really changes what we are inside. Holding her hand was like skipping through the park. Holding her hand was winking at her, as if to say, “I know you’re just a kid too. Let’s be friends.”
Perhaps most of all, however, I wish I had held her hand more so that I could still feel it more clearly.
I wish it had been such a constant habit that even now my hand would form into a hand holding shape each time I get in the car.
I wish I could fall asleep feeling her hand in mine.”