Miss, Do I Know You?

44 - Saturday, July 3

It could be felt in the air. Maybe it was the way the sun set a little too late, hesitating on the horizon, or the way the leaves rustled with an unspoken sadness and whispered secrets that only they could hear. It could be felt in the way the wind blew, in the way the birds sang a different tune. Or maybe it was the way Alex's smile didn't quite reach her eyes anymore.

Recent days had infused our time together with an inexplicable strangeness. Though our conversations echoed with laughter and our exchanges were never short of words, an intangible distance seemed to permeate everything. It grew like a weed, crowding out every conversation and moment, a shadowy feeling that I could not quite explain or pin down. But I knew that something had changed.

I sought relief in the familiar rhythms of daily life, hoping that merely the passing of time would work its magic and restore the solid ground beneath our feet. The comforts of home awaited me every evening after work, but a subtle feeling of unrest lingered, like a ghostly presence that refused to be seen or touched. Tension simmered just beneath the surface—a quiet dread that I could almost taste, that tingled my senses.

Her touch carried the weight of hesitance, of second thoughts, as if threaded with fine uncertainty. In her gaze, I could see a glimmer of unease, a deep-rooted apprehension that seemed to cloud her mind, every shared moment, every exhaled breath. Our careful balance had been tipped off, and I had no idea how to restore it. Nothing left to do but scramble in search of that lost piece, and figure out how to put it back.

Though our days remained unchanged, everything felt kind of off. But today, the sun claimed the sky with more brightness and cast a sunny glow upon the earth below. Today, the refrigerator barely hummed. The summer rain was long gone, and the windows shone with light. Today, Alex's smile reached higher, for we had something to be very happy about. The family had gathered in Toronto to celebrate Henrie's beat of cancer. He was okay, and life at that moment felt fairer.

"Oh, hon?" Henrie's voice broke the room as he muted the television that hummed softly in the background. "Did you bring the photo albums?"

"Yeah." Alex smiled, pushing herself off the couch. "They're in the car. Give me a sec."

Benji nestled in the cradle of my lap as Alex returned, arms filled with memories of a lifetime. The past spread out before us, and hours wove seamlessly into one another while laughter, sighs, and wonder punctuated each photograph. No matter how often I revisited those albums, the heartstrings they tugged on remained ever familiar.

With every page flipped in Alex's albums, a portal to the past they had not been a part of, the growing emotions within Henrie and Lucy were evident. In those pages, Alex and Benji grew up together, birthdays bloomed with color and laughter, Christmases glimmered with warmth, and the simplest everyday moments sparkled with unadulterated happiness. From Benji's toothless grins and wobbly legs to his first school days and chaotic science fair projects.

As we sifted through my albums, untouched for seasons spanning over six years, it surprised me to see how many pictures there were of Alex and me together. So many memories buried deep. And the photographs that once brought me to my knees in sorrow no longer chained my heart in melancholy. I felt as though I was seeing those frozen moments anew, with fresh eyes that beheld a meaning I had never before appreciated. The colors danced brighter, the lines sharper, and the details clearer. Perhaps it was the realization that it was not just a stark reminder of what had been lost but also of what had once been—the love and joy that had colored my younger years. Or perhaps that's what having closure meant.

In the pages of Benji's album, nature and its creatures were like old friends; each photograph was a poem unto itself, a tender love letter, a glimpse of his heart and his visions of beauty and love. A rusty gate, a lazy cat, a blade of grass. Flowers and trees. Candid moments with Alex and me, caught in silly poses. Us cooking together, our walks through the neighboring forest. That boy always found something special in us, something beautiful to build upon. It was his world, a magical realm he created with his camera and shared with us. An innocent vision, an untarnished perspective.