Every evening

 Every evening, before the house gets quiet, I light a candle for you.

It's a small thing.
Just a flicker of light in a room that once felt brighter because you were in it.
But somehow, it helps.
Tonight, as I struck the match and watched the flame come alive, I found myself staring at it longer than usual.
Maybe because it reminds me of you.
Gentle.
Steady.
Comforting.
The kind of presence that never demanded attention, yet somehow made everything feel safer.
There was a time when this hour of the day belonged to us.
You'd be curled up nearby while I finished the last few things before bed.
Sometimes sleeping.
Sometimes watching me with those soft eyes that always seemed to understand more than words ever could.
I never realized how much comfort lived inside those ordinary moments.
Now the room is quieter.
The evenings feel longer.
And the silence has a way of bringing every memory back to the surface.
I think about your favorite spot.
The sound of your paws crossing the floor.
The way you always seemed to know when I needed comfort, even on the days I didn't say a word.
Some people might see a candle and think it's only wax and flame.
But to me, it feels like a conversation.
A way of saying, "I'm still thinking about you."
A way of saying, "Thank you."
A way of saying, "I love you."
Because love doesn't simply disappear when someone leaves this world.
It changes shape.
It becomes memories.
Photographs.
Treasured routines.
And sometimes, a small light glowing softly in the evening darkness.
I don't know if you can see that candle from where you are.
I don't know if heaven allows little signs to travel between hearts.
But I like to believe that somewhere beyond the Rainbow Bridge, you know.
You know that you're missed.
You know that you're remembered.
You know that not a single day passes without love finding its way back to you.
So I'll keep lighting that candle.
Not because I can't let go.
But because love deserves to be honored.
And because every tiny flame reminds me that even in the darkest moments, the bond we shared still shines.