“I’m freezing, put the heat up!”
So much of their life revolved around the thermostat. It sounded crazy, but it wasn’t. His life had become nothing more, it seemed, than a succession of old rituals and habits.
Every day every winter, she would say, “I’m freezing” or “I’m cold, put the heat up.”
And then they would argue. “The heat is up, put on another layer of clothes,” he would say.
I already have two layers on, she would say.
Put on three,” he would respond. It would be funny if it weren’t so annoying day after day.
Crazy. Now that she was gone, he missed her saying, “I’m freezing, put the heat up.”
Now he put the heat up instinctively even though she wasn’t there anymore to complain. He hated those complaints but now he missed them. And sometimes, he didn’t put the heat up just to spite her for leaving. Where she was now, it wasn’t cold or hot.
Six months had passed since her death, and he observed the same rituals in the morning. He got his coffee, and then he filled the tea kettle for her so she could have her instant organic coffee imported from wherever it was. Who drank instant coffee in this day and age when there were K-cups and high-tech coffee pots with timers?
She liked the taste, but it didn’t matter. She was gone and the habit had gotten the best of him. In fact, by the end of the week, he had to empty the tea kettle, or it would be overflowing.
© Joseph Pisani
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