Miles to Go Before I Sleep

I can't believe it's been a year.

Last week, I was in Half-Price Books and came across a book Cherie and I had dearly loved, and much to our chagrin, could never find in hardback. I have no idea why, once online second-hand bookstores became common, we didn't think to look there--probably just because we'd been looking in second-hand shops for it since about 1994, and it didn't occur to us.

I spotted the hardback on the clearance shelf for $3, and just about let out a "whoop" of joy right there. I grabbed it, shook it at the crappy ceiling of the store, and said, "We got it, Cherie."

This year has been full of rediscovering awesome memories I'd nearly forgotten, a lot of crying, a lot of realizing how waiting for reunion in heaven seems impossibly long, a lot of raw and ugly anger that was terrifying in its intensity. It's made me feel closer to Cherie in ways I'd never have predicted, and it's also made me feel near insane when I can't repress the urge to talk to her aloud. It's made my heart break realizing that this process has been intensely, exponentially more difficult for her family.

Happy Homecoming day, Cherie. You earned this rest, that's for sure. But we all sure do miss you.

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