Dear Rich

     Hi there. I wonder how you are doing. I often feel you right next to me and when I do something stupid, you laugh. I can't really hear it in the open spaces or the house. But I hear it in my ears anyway.

Isn't that weird?

I think I was numb the first 2 months you were gone. I was so busy taking care of the details. In fact I haven't even written the thank you's for those who visited at your celebration. I think I was numb and dumb during that event anyway.

Your photos were scrolling through on the huge TV Screen. I took most of those photos and each one gave me a glimpse of our memories together. The faces of many of the folks were a blur except maybe my sons and a couple of grand kids. I don't even think my stepdaughter came over to talk with me. 

She hung out on the other side of the funeral home with her group. I confess, I ignored her because I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with her. I only was doing what was expected of me and wanted to get it done with and on with the next chore that death brings.

I couldn't handle Veteran's Day. It is on the 11th. Only you could be born on the 11th day of a month and die on the 11th day of September  and be a Veteran too. Too many 11's. Your dad's funeral was on your birthday. Another 11. 

Thank God Pearl Harbor Day is not on an 11.

The only time I don't feel your presence is when I am outside hiking and doing work. Maybe that is because those were solo things I've done for the past several years without your company. 
I'm feeding the birds and watching them, Little Richard has special 'calf' hay to help him chew with his ancient teeth. The mule gals are good and have gotten themselves into burdock.

Oddly enough, I feel half of what I was. It's hard to explain. I'm not as excited about everything anymore because I can't share my observations with you. I'd come home from a winter hike and you'd ask about the ice, did I find any? I'd show you photos and tell you all about it. I'd go work out and when I got home, you'd ask me how was it and what did I do? Even when you were not well, you'd ask and I'd delight in telling you everything.

Now at the gym, I listen to the coach and go through the workout without the same gusto and wise remarks. It felt like a 'job' last week so I didn't go on Friday. I didn't want to hear all the stories from all the other folks about their Thanksgiving. Mine was good, don't get me wrong. But it wasn't our Lasagna dinner with Apple Pie and Lego Building afterwards.

I will keep going, that is how I see other people and interact as well as keeping myself in shape. 

I have a really good network of friends. But nothing like what we had. I miss the morning coffee cup tapping you did to remind me to get you more coffee. It really made me mad at the time. But I'd trade it now for an encore. 

It is December. You used to delight and shake your head at my stupid Christmas Chair Tree. You said No one on earth did anything that weird. But you enjoyed it and loved looking on the Chair seat each morning to see what the toys would be up to.
You'd comment that I NEVER grew up. And we would laugh and you would roll your eyes.

You'd then ask me when I was going to write a letter to my Dad. He died in 2005, however, Dad and I always talked on Christmas Eve by phone. After he was gone, I would write him a letter each December. There was no place to send it. But I'd write it.

Now I have to add you to the list. Damn.

Thank goodness your suffering and anguish of Moral Injury is done. So I am grateful for that. I am being selfish for missing you so much. I am being selfish to wish you were here to encourage me as you always did.

I'll never forget your encouragement for me to go back to college and earn a degree at 50 yrs old. As my partner you gave me the abilities to be who I am now. You gave me confidence in myself and you gave me independence.

I need to tell you that you were the best gift my life ever had.