You are missing quite a Fall. I haven’t been able to get back to the gym, but walking in the woods with friends has become a new routine. Sharon was able to squeeze out a walk yesterday morning in Kennedy just before I made my way up to Ellenville to meet up with Aunt Sally and Elaine as they arrived from Canada for their annual visit.
On your side, Ami arrived yesterday morning. I called him at 6:30 but by 6 you would have been on with him as his plane landed and cell phones were welcomed. Yes, he missed your call, your voice, your caring. We talked about our shared loss of the things we both took for granted from you.
As I drove up the Thruway and I played Israeli music that you love, I felt that silence. Right now, as I write this letter, my phone is not buzzing the way it usually does when I’m here, away from you. In fact, we would probably have been back and forth a few times before 7. That’s what I’m missing.
I love being with my family, waking up for that first cup of coffee with Jeff, joining the early morning walk around Green Acres, sitting back in gorgeous spaces as Marla and Jeff leave for work and I wait to make plans with Sally and Elaine- a ride to New Paltz, lunch at the Main Course.
Yes, life is moving on without you and I am tearing up as I write this wondering how I continue without you as days pass into new seasons without new photos of you, of us.
I’m remembering how hard it was to get used to my friend Eileen’s absence. For that whole first year, I wrote religiously to her each morning just the way I am writing to you. But then we were in each other’s lives day in and out and now we aren’t. I’m trying to hold on to you, to hear your voice…
I’d like to see me a year from right now just to see what a year looks like…
This letter is a hard one to write but the letters to come will be harder as I live through our anniversary without you on Yom Kippur. Good thing I’ll have your family all around me for loving distraction.
Miss you T,