grieve what Sid and I once were. What keeps me going are memories of happier times and the too-fleeting moments of our souls grazing through an unguarded smile or touch. I’m not sure that’s enough anymore. I sense the specter of a sickness settling into the bones of our relationship. Maybe grief shouldn’t be all there is to life, but I learned early that life is littered with things that shouldn’t have happened but happened anyway. Perhaps my losing Sid is no exception.
