If I could live in the year 2023 forever, I would. Perpetual visits through memories, feasting on what I loved, shining its state, and experiencing life ritualistically.
Tomorrow is February 5th, one decade since my late wife, Cynthia, passed. What I’ve never told anyone is that today, February 4th, is the day I remember the most. After being sick for a week with the flu, we went to the hospital for a second time. I won’t go into details but grief digs her nails in on days like today. This year is no different.