Dear Lion,
Today I realized something I should have seen years ago.
It happened in the smallest way—just an empty coffee cup left on the kitchen table. For years, I used to get annoyed by these tiny things. I’d sigh, clean up, and wonder why nobody ever saw the mess I did. It felt like a hundred little slights, proof that nobody cared as much as I did.
But tonight, standing in the dim light, I remembered how she used to drink coffee with me in the mornings. How her laughter filled the quiet. How, sometimes, her forgetfulness meant she was rushing to hug our son before school, or answer one more email for work, or simply daydreaming out the window.
I realized I spent so much time being bothered by the mess that I forgot to see the person who left it.
I was so focused on what was missing that I stopped appreciating what was still there.
Tonight, the coffee cup just looked lonely.
Not annoying—just a small, silent proof that someone was here, loving, living, trying.
I wish I had seen that sooner. I wish I’d said thank you more.
But sometimes we only learn gratitude when it’s too late to say it out loud.
Maybe that’s why we write confessions after dark.
—Lion