I remember your smell.

That warm, comforting smell that I’ve known for so many years. 
The smell that is love to me.
The smell that calmed me when nothing else would.

It’s diluted now, by the smells of another place where we do not live together.

Yet I can still smell it, and it comforts me. 

Reminds me of our life together. Days of adventures, big and small. The births of our children and finding tiny, perfect shells on the beach.

Today, four years after our world turned upside down, I remember your smell. And how much love you gave to me.