As I drove down 6th Ave. this morning, a though came to mind. And while you might think it morbid, the thought occurred to me, that one day, I will undoubtedly drive this road for the very last time. One day, I will enter my home, for the very last time. And yes, one day, I will breathe my very last breath. The portal I will cross through, is one which every person, no longer living has crossed. People will gather to say their goodbyes, and though my essence may linger unnoticed in their midst, my physical body will no longer be present. I have accepted that one day, either I will stand at the grave of my wife, or she will stand at mine. And certainly, grief will accompany the survivor for the remainder of their days. But I know, that that dreaded day is not this one! And so, I will clutch this day as if it will be my last. I will savor every minute, as if it will be my last. I will laugh, as if the sound of my laughter were but a memory. I will love, as if my love were the very breath that sustains my life! I will cling to my wife as if tomorrow I would never see her face again! I will smile, even in those dark times, for I know, that no matter how dark, they too shall pass.
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