The rumbling of laundry in the dryer, the clanking of a zipper or button tossing about recklessly in the load. 
The resounding notes of a piano echoing through the corridor, the gentle whisper of the wind singing along as it greets me by the open window,
The beams of light pouring upon my skin from the summer day sun. 
The tickle of water as the frying pan sizzles and the dishes file into the sink to be washed. 
A knife laid to rest by the cutting board as the contents have all been sliced and diced,
and the clock ticks away to notify me that soon he'll come walking through the door with a kiss ready to bestow on my lips and a hug for each of the little feet pattering throughout the house.

These are all mere memories of the past.