Today Wendy would have been 46 years old. I'll observe it with a Mass in her honor (Wendy was Catholic) and later I'll have dinner in our favorite restaurant. As I have done before I'll have a place set for her, and a Marguerita will wait for her to join us. At the end of dinner I'll drink it in her memory. There will be tears, as there are now. I don't find it morbid, it's just my way of celebrating the life of my unique and sparkling fairy princess.

  Every day brings news of others who have suffered the loss of a loved one. I feel sadder for them now than I once might have, informed by my own grief and anguish. It must be that the depth of our sorrow reflects the strength of the love for the lost one.

  I still have no will to move forward with my life. I need a vacation badly and yet I can't bear the thought of being away alone. When I go it will be to some place we might have gone together, but also one I've never been to myself. Where might that be?

Still putting one foot in front of the other, all day, each day, hoping to find the path.


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