I cannot believe it’s been a year. I couldn’t blog on the anniversary. It hit me pretty hard. I spent the day remembering, hour by hour reliving everything. My brain wouldn’t let me NOT do that. Everyone around me is planning Christmas and I am trying to be cheerful about it all. We never decorated the house for Christmas — I guess not having kids spared us of that obligation. But we always treated ourselves to one spectacular “house present” every year, ranging from airline tickets for a planned Las Vegas trip to a new HD TV and everything in between. Last year, we had planned to treat ourselves to a fine steak dinner at Morton’s Steakhouse. I had even printed out the menus and Robo had already begun fantasizing about his dinner. But that never happened. And I got caught up in the funeral arrangements and my own hospitalization at the same time — so that the holidays last year were just a big blur. This year I have more time to brood about it, and that’s exactly what I’ve done. Not consciously, you understand. but I just cannot help it.
I am spending the last day of my week-long vacation cleaning out my email inbox and came across something I wrote to a close friend the evening that Robo died. I thought I’d share it with you. It happened so fast this afternoon; EMTs, cops, medical examiner … I guess with his constellation of health issues, they wanted a definitive cause of death. The house is finally quiet tonight after hours of chaos. And I have lost my best friend of 30 years. And I didn’t tell him how much I love him today of all days. Go do that right now!