He left the bar of soap upside down in its dish, melting; played the car radio too loud; lost his phone hourly; ignored the closet and piled his shoes by the front door; hogged the coat rack with his jackets; ran the dishwasher with three plates in it; filled the driveway with derelict boats and cars. He brought me coffee in bed every morning, whispering, “Buongiorno, principessa.” He said I was the world’s best kisser, tolerated weekly ballroom dance classes, mimicked the cardinal’s song so well that I sometimes think he is still here. His ashes are. — Marze Murphy

Positively Purging-I welcome your feedbacks in the comments and your likes and passing the real life wisdom on to others as I embark on this new venture of “positively purging“, as I know each of these pieces represents something…