He’s gone.

Last night he turned the handle, and walked through the door.

There is nothing clever to be said when such a thing happens.  There is nothing wise, or instructive, or comforting.  It’s all pain in the heart, and a vague sense of disbelief.   And later when the news is no longer fresh, a strange yet conventional drive to make up a tray of food for my aunt and uncle.  Food is life, this says, and yours is valuable to me.

They will eventually sleep, and eat, and resume the routines and avocations which form the framework of their lives.  But it’s not the same, never the same as before.  Even a childless woman knows that such a loss is something from which one never recovers.

As for me, I will hold certain things close to me.  His funny tee-shirt collection (Aladdin Bail Bonds – Because Jail Sucks); the unique, nervous laugh; that flaming orange-red hair; his kind yet blunt way of speaking.  The time we took a sushi-making class, gorging ourselves on the fruits of our labors.  Christmas holidays during which we promise to get together more often during the year, while knowing that our schedules won’t frequently mesh.  Childhood arguments, and apologies, and the growing up part during which we realized that we liked each other as people and not just because we were family.

I guess that’s the most important thing right now.  And I wish him great love, a heart of peace, and thrilling adventure in what is next.


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