Death and Silliness: A Poem

There may be a day when I'm not there. I may die. That's it. I'll be in Heaven and you'll be here.  

The very same day that happens you'll miss the silliness. You'll wonder why no one is brushing your teeth with his tongue. You'll realize that life isn't a series a events not to be trusted and constantly questioned. You'll realize that experience simply is.  

You'll find my shirts in the closet, and my shoes on the floor. I hope you'll know that all of life is a wild stab in the dark, but that I was your ray of light.  

You'll miss the silliness. Not because you knew it would happen--you did. You won't miss it because it's the only time you couldn't question what something, anything, is. Silliness makes no sense. Because life is a series of plans and habits that help you achieve success or cleanliness, you'll miss the silliness.  

You'll see the half-drunk diet mountain dew in the refrigerator. The remote control will be on the table beside the couch. You'll see my pillow, and ruffled sheets. You'll think about my ball and glove and wonder where we stashed it away. My shaver will be on the shower wall and my toothbrush in the holder. The coffee pot doesn't poor well. I poured coffee today. You'll see my stain tomorrow. But I may not be there and you'll miss the silliness.  

You'll wonder if you saw the good in me today. You'll wonder how many thoughts you had today.  

But you'll miss the silliness. Not because of what it was, or who I am. But because of how you felt when it happened.