This is June 20, 2024. It has been one year since the early morning when I sat by Dennis’s bed, holding his hand, as he took his last breath. Time has separated me from that experience, and so much has happened that I acknowledge it has been many months. And yet, it seems short, as if it were only yesterday. You would think I would be used to the craziness of time by now.

I have gone back to the beginning of the story by reading my blog posts from 2018 and on. The good thing about this reading exercise is that it helps me remember details, some of them tragic, some of them ridiculously funny. I also lit the remembrance candle while doing this – a sort of ceremony. I will probably go to the cemetery later and see if the plants around his marker have taken root. I expect the day to be full of memories of our Lewy Body time, but also of simpler times when we didn’t know what was coming.

I haven’t had trouble continuing with life. It is good, this June, to be able to put bouquets of peonies around the house, to consider going to events during the local festival, to meet new friends in a hiking club. There has been too much to do to even consider sitting around feeling depressed or lonely. I miss Dennis, but there is nothing like a prolonged period of sickness and suffering to make it clear that death was a relief for him, and for me. And there is nothing like faith in God to make it clear that death is not the end, even though there are not a lot of details about what comes next.

As I watch our little granddaughter, whom Dennis did not get to meet, grow and become amazing, I’m aware of how closely together his departure and her arrival were. I view it as providential that he was able to look at the early ultrasound and recognize it as “Julie’s baby”. He would be so proud of her now.

It was providential that he was present at both daughters weddings during the covid years. It was providential that each difficult part of the worst five years of our lives held such precious, significant moments. There were times when relationships were formed, and deepened, times when we didn’t expect help but it was there anyway. Times when we endured things we didn’t think we could endure, and found strength we didn’t know we had.

Thank you God, for being real to me through it all. You were, you are and you will be present with me. That gives me a lot of peace, freedom from worry and a weird sense of confidence. Pretty happy about that, just sayin’…