Sunday 2nd April, 2017
Love is painful. Love is blind. Love is precious. Love is kind. But let me tell you this, my friend. It's always painful in the end.
Today is the twelfth anniversary of losing Kate to breast cancer. Hard to believe. It was so difficult then to comprehend that the woman to whom I had been bonded for forty years, no longer existed; life without her had been beyond the bounds of my imagination. But there is life after bereavement. It's been a tumultuous and very happy twelve years. I count my blessings.