In some ways death is marked with the same fits and starts as life; hours of urgency interrupted by long stretches of soul numbing same. At the end of one such hour his heart just…gave out, and he escaped into sleep. Soon after so did we. Exhausted. Bereft. Relieved.
Life goes on exactly as you know it will though now you have to remind yourself to mind the hole—another huge one that won’t ever fill. Is that what growing old is, navigating the minefield where love and friendships used to live? Avoiding the cracks and cavities? It’s getting harder and harder to walk in the dark. Too many gaps.