Dear Joshua,

Hello, my wonderful husband! As I write this, you’re sleeping. Naked, I might add. Your shoulders are so ridiculously gorgeous. I am deeply grateful.

It’s been strange, trying to imagine you alive while I’m not, trying to think about where you are and how you’re doing, what issues might be coming up. I’ve read some books on grief to try to help you get through this. I know there’s not an easy way, and everyone’s path is different (I hate that line, don’t you? Obviously, everyone’s path is different, genius! Duh!)

But everyone’s path is different.

It occurred to me that aside from all the things we do together, and aside from you running, you don’t really have a hobby. (I view the punching bag as more of a coping mechanism than something you actually enjoy doing.) Fly-fishing is a real hobby, for example. Or learning how to sail, since we live in the Ocean State. I bet there’s a baseball league for grown-ups in town, and maybe you’d like that.

I think a hobby would be a way for you to do something we never did together. Maybe it will relax you, or tire you out in a good way, or be something that you do at home, like paint. Pottery. (Actually, not pottery. You’d have to give pinch pots and lopsided vases to our friends and family, and they’d have to pretend to like them because you’re a widower.)

Would you get a hobby for me, Joshua? It makes me happy to think of you trying something new, something that would interest you. I want you to have free time. I don’t want you to be working or grieving every minute of every day. I want you to make new friends. Maybe this can help.

I’ll be watching, cheering you on in whatever it is, honey. I love you.

Lauren

He reread it four times, memorizing it, then sniffed the paper, hoping to catch a trace of her smell. Nothing. Just paper.

She was right. He didn’t have many hobbies. He designed medical stuff, and he took care of his wife. He liked to travel, but not without her. He liked to cook, but not for one. The days were too long, and the nights were worse.

A hobby it would be.

Now. What did he like to do?

His mind went blank.

Once or twice a month, he and Ben Kim went for a long walk through the city so Ben could get his cigar fix without Mrs. Kim harping on him. That didn’t exactly constitute a hobby, though.