It was the Wednesday after Labor Day. I remember it distinctly — a day not unlike so many others before. I was finishing up after a long day at work. It was late. As is my custom, I called my husband as I drove home to let him know I was on my way.It was already dark. I was trying to concentrate on the road as I waited for him to pick up the phone. He didn’t say hello. He hesitated a moment, then simply stated, “You’ll never guess who’s here.” I knew immediately.
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I sat and listened to him fill in the missing puzzle pieces of his life. With each story, a mixture of joy and pain. There is the distinct realization that in every event, every experience, we were missing.