He stood in the doorway, his mind filling with the smells and noises of years gone by. His wife cooking eggs and bacon, smiling at him with her eyes. His daughter going on about her playground misadventures, her fork banging on the china as she did. His son slurping milk from his bowl, trying to avoid the inevitable inclusion of his romantic life into the conversation.
That was 20 years ago.
Before the kids moved out.
Before she got sick.
Before he was left alone, standing in a doorway with only his memories of smells and noises.