It's been weeks since Madeline passed on and I still have yet to enter the room where we could always just be. It was the room where we started and ended each day, content in the fact that for a few moments every morning and night it was just us and nothing else mattered. In every room I see her joyful smile, in every mirror I see her bright eyes, in every dream I hear her sweet laughter. I know that this room will contain it all. I push open the door. As I glance around the room I see her. My beautiful Madeline, brushing her hair in front of the mirror, sitting in front of the fireplace wrapped in a shawl, picking out a book from the top shelf, lying in the bed, sound asleep. I walk over to the bedside table and pick up the photo that has rested there for the past half century. I stare at her lively face looking at me like I am the world. Her dark hair flowing past her waist creating a stunning contrast with her white dress. I blink back tears and set the photo down in its spot and then turn to leave. I pull the door closed behind me but suddenly all I want to do is go back in there and let my memories of her wrap me up in a hug and take me away. I push the door open again but the moment I step inside the fantasy is gone and I pull the door shut for the last time.