Last year I mused about my second year of grieving the death of my wife Abby. I noted that it seemed harder, somehow, than that first year. You can read that entry here (link).

Now, in the third year of grieving, it seems even harder.

One of the cruelties of memory, at least in my case, is that I am playing back so many bad memories right now. Three years ago, Abby’s health was failing, and although I tried to take care of her, I didn’t always succeed.

Marry that to the even crueler idea that she and her health also failed me… it’s hard to admit that, because it makes me seem selfish, even to myself.

Odder still, the weather in my part of Oklahoma has been very beautiful the last few days, and while you would think it would cheer me up, it has the opposite effect of acutely, stingingly reminding me of all those gorgeous, sunny fall days Abby and I would load up the truck and head west for our annual anniversary vacation.

One thing I found out recently is that our favorite restaurant in the world, a place called The Hollar in Madrid, New Mexico, went out of business in December 2023. We both loved it there, and having lunch at The Hollar became one of our regular destinations when we travelled out west.

“I could live here,” Abby told me more than once in Madrid.

I know I’ll be okay, but these thoughts and feelings are on my mind right now.