Updating my voicemail at work this morning, I mentioned the date and it occurred to me it's the 35th anniversary of my one and only wedding.
I last spoke to her about 4 years ago, friendly, cordially, enjoyably, and resolved a sticky little wicket of my mentally ill brother phoning and phoning and phoning her over the years: news to me, and apologies to her.
Innocently enough, I googled her to find a current email address and got her obituary, instead.
I loved her honestly, completely, mind, body, heart and soul as one should at that point in a relationship.
This month, October, can't leave me soon enough.
It continues to leave me pain-filled and hollow.
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