The date passed uneventfully in terms of mourning.
I arose, dressed, and packed up the grandchildren for their trip home.
I prepared breakfast, returned calls and text messages, walked dogs.
I conversed with the other love of her life, the friend who‘d mercifully kept me company through the first two anniversaries.
I spoke with my companion who had waited with me through that difficult, life-stealing night.
As the day faded, I busied myself, not even looking up as the hour of her death ticked by.
My mere existence became a testament to her, my hollow eyes unflinchingly facing the void.
