In the past five months, since Cliff died, I have only shaved my legs twice; for the funeral and for Es and Len’s wedding in Denmark.
I shaved them before I was with him fifteen years ago.
I shaved them before I met him twenty seven years ago.
Probably because no one else will be getting up close and personal.
That said, it’s just as well the hair on my legs grows through fine and blonde … otherwise I would actually look like Genghis Khan’s wife, literally.
I so miss him looking at me across a crowded room and winking at me, his eyes smiling.