Four years ago this time of year Denis came home to find me a sobbing mess of snot and tears in our little boat. He almost fell down getting to me quickly as I was so obviously destroyed.

I had talked to her over the weekend, she told me how she was heading to the doctors on Monday because she just was not getting better, Monday we got the impending news and Friday Denis found me crippled with my sorrow.

Old tears or new? They still travel down my cheeks with her memory but not so hot or lost. They know the path, so many have travelled before, there are fewer now and they don’t rip me up so badly but my heart still longs for her companionship, her words of wisdom, her physical presence in my life. My attachment to the material is less than it once was but how I wish I could have her in the material again.




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