Every day it's a brand new sadness,
double-taking at my glances, corner of my eye
where I saw her sitting.
It'll keep on hitting, it still gets me every time.

I know I don't have to do it anymore,
but I still hold the door, 'cause she's right behind me.
I keep making up her bed,
my mind keeps asking if she's fed. Don't remind me.

Loved ones die easy; old habits die hard.