The drive home was calm, peaceful even. I kept a steady cruise of 80 mph, which alternated between too fast and too slow as I passed (or was passed) through clusters of cars. It occurred to me that this dynamic was representative of my life the past year. Fast, slow, fast, slow as I trudged along at the same speed. Inside the car, I cried, leaving behind the holiday I’ve dreaded since October 26th.


What lies ahead for 2014? Where do we go? While each moment lends itself to me as an opportunity to strive to make her proud, each moment also disintegrates my disbelief. I want to carry on in denial that she’s gone, believing that any moment the universe will resolve this monumental glitch and bring her back. (Note: I initially mistyped “momumental”… what a Freudian slip.)

As I drove home, I flashed back on the last hours of her life. I cried and cried and thought of those precious, unsuspecting moments. The odd feeling of certainty that I would continue caring for her the next day, and then the burning absence of purpose when I no longer had her to look after. It all spiraled through my mind and heart as the same cars danced around me in a quiet harmony. They kept moving at different paces, heeding my way, before blazing past me.

Eventually, I made it back home. Lights off throughout the house. Everything where I left it.


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