There are days when it's expected

This gnawing, empty feeling
Remembering, and afraid of a day when I won't remember.

Thinking of the protection I once felt but no longer do or can or will.

There are days when it's expected.
February, on your birthday.
Christmas,
Father's Day,
Thanksgiving.

July 12th, when I got the call that you were gone.

Those are days I brace myself for.

Remembering your calls to check on me and make sure that everything was okay.
Remembering your hands on your guitar.

The guitar I wanted to learn to play, but was too lazy to practice those three chords over and over.

Remembering you saying "Now that I have a captive audience, which lecture do you want to hear?" as you drove me to school.

There are days when it's expected, and then there is today.