Little Things
Ever notice how everything in life seems to be made up of little
things. Not little things like atoms and
molecules, although that's fascinating in itself I just don't have the energy
to think of such things at the moment.
It's late; Abbey's asleep in the bed and I, as usual am still awake at midnight. So I'm wandering the halls of the
White House in my pajamas and robe.
What I'm thinking about are the little things that happen everyday. Things we take for granted. Thing we don't even notice when they are
happening but we are certainly sure to notice when they don't.
Over the past few months so many of those little things have been missing
from my life. And I'm just starting to
notice them, or rather, notice their absence.
When I sat down at Mrs. Landingham's desk today, I realized it was the
first time I sat there, ever. It was her
desk; I had no reason to sit there. And
then she was gone and I could barely bring myself to walk by it, let alone sit
down in the chair.
It took me a better part of the day but I did finally figure out how she
got the pen in there everyday. Before I
would walk over from the residence I would always throw my coat on over my
head. My kids tease me about putting on
my coat that way. I tell them it is not
good manners to make fun of the President of the United
States.
They don't particularly care.
Anyway, I would walk to the Oval Office, take my coat back off before I sat
down and got to work. I had the habit of
just tossing it on the nearest surface, the couch, the chair, the desk. When Mrs. Landingham would come in with my
coffee she would always cluck her tongue at me and tell me that it wasn't a
good idea for the President to go around rumpled. Then she would pick up my coat, smooth out
the wrinkles and hang it up, apparently slipping a pen into the pocket each and
every morning. And I can't believe I
never noticed it.
There are other little things she always did, things that Charlie has taken
to doing without even being told. Like
making sure I take a few minutes in the afternoon to relax and put my feet up.
Fixing my tie, although Charlie doesn't actually fix it for me, he just
motions to my tie and the nearest mirror and I get the hint.
He's started to bug me about eating vegetables too. I would like to yell at him for that, but
that somehow seems disrespectful to Mrs. Landingham's memory.
Charlie's even tried teaching me to use the intercom but I think that's a
lost cause. Even he's starting to
realize that.
There are plenty more little things that have been missing lately. Little things that Abbey did. Things I miss terribly but am too stubborn to
talk about them. Too stubborn to tell
her how much I miss them.
She used to always call me before she went to bed. No matter where she was or where I was, she
would call. Many times I was busy and
only got a message but that didn't matter.
The fact that she called was what mattered. Now, I'm lucky if I talk to her each
day. I'd like to put all the blame on
her, but that wouldn't be fair.
I miss the way she used to always snuggle next to me when I got in bed, no
matter what time that was. She didn't
even have to be awake; I would crawl into bed and she would reach out to rub my
back for a minute.
If we woke up in the same bed she would always get up with me and have a
cup of coffee in the morning. Even if it
was practically the middle of the night.
She would just go back to bed after I left.
She used to stick notes in my pockets, my briefcase, my desk drawers. Haven't had one of those in a while now.
I could always count on her to yell at me when I snuck outside to have a
cigarette. She hasn't noticed that
lately my 2 a day habit has inched slowly towards a half a pack a day. It hurts that she doesn't even notice.
I miss the way she would look at me when I wandered back to the residence
after a long day. Without me even saying
anything she knew what I wanted, whether it was to make love, take a shower,
get a back rub, or take some Advil and go to bed, she always knew. I suppose she still knows what I need but
just doesn't feel like doing anything about it.
I thought things were getting better since we returned from Manchester.
But I realize now, that most of what went on while we were up there was for
show, for the public.
Most of things that I've been missing lately are little things. But take away a lot of little things and
you're left with a big void in your life.
There's nothing I can do to bring Mrs. Landingham back, I wish there
were. That void will never be filled, so
I will try to be the man she would want me to be. I want her to be proud of me.
As for Abbey, we still have a long way to go to get back to where we
belong. So many little things need to
come back and be a part of our lives.
Deep down, I believe we are making progress.
One little thing at a time.
I climb into bed next to her and stay still for a moment, waiting to see
what happens.
And then she moves over, puts her hand under my shirt and rubs my back.
It's just a little thing; but it means the world to me.
THE END
