So much has happened in these intervening 2 years that I don’t know where to start to catch you all up. But the most obvious is often the right place, so I shall start there.
Or here, I should perhaps say. Here in this still painful place in my heart where my sweet love of a husband has resided for 44 years. He died unexpectedly 6 and a half months ago from a fall. I had pneumonia, and so he was walking the dog for me. He had walked the dog, many, many times before over the years, as this was a task that we shared. But this particular time he himself was recovering from surgery, and he lost is balance just as he was reaching for the heavy door of our building. He fell strait backwards and went down like a felled tree. He sustained a TBI (traumatic brain injury) and was severely impacted from that. He improved for awhile during a month in acute rehab for brain injuries, and continued to improve a little once we got him home. But he needed to be re hospitalized, and ultimately, his age and the injury were too much, and he died at home with family around him on September 2, 2018. We observed his birthday a mere two and a half weeks later, and on December 28, we would have celebrated out 44th anniversary. We buried him 2 miles away in the East Bay hills that he loved. I can see those hills from our apartment, which is a comfort, but I miss him terribly.