It was a full day indeed.
It started early (like they always do) with some work to catch up on. Got a lot accomplished. Flash forward a couple hours, and I see the sky getting vibrant outside - a particularly beautiful sunrise emerging.
Ran some errands around town, then came back and helped my son with his car. Bought tickets to see Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers and Steve Winwood in October, then went to work.
The evening was lovely, having a nice dinner with my other son, then out for a walk. Now, I'm back home with a cold beer in my hand. Well, cold beer is not in my hand RIGHT now, as it's hard to touch type with one of those like that.
Any-who, all in all, a great day.
But the funny thing (funny peculiar, not funny ha-ha) was this deep, burrowing depression in the middle of the day. Only lasted a few hours, but it was so intense. To some degree, these come and go in my recent times, but it was strange how it popped in during a great day. Or maybe it was the greatness of the day bookending the depression.
As I wrote her obituary in July, I had the phrase go through my head, "had I known her for just six months in the spring of 1981, I would certainly remembered her for the rest of my life, and been grateful for the brief friendship. To have had 33 years, and a family, and to have shared so many joys and sorrows, is a gift beyond measure. With that in mind, how could I be anything but grateful?"
And I am.
It still hurts.
But I am most grateful.