Yes, Margret's birthday was in July, and the anniversary of her passing is also in July. July was cruel all on its own.
October is the month Margret and I packed our clothes, our supplies and our courage and set out on a road trip half way across the USA. This year was supposed to have another road trip across the country to visit Margret's little sister and her family.
I have been mourning the loss of the road trip. I have my memories of the previous ones, but those memories don't help much right now. I remember, cherish, and still miss, all the little details of our travels together:
the companionable silences
the friendly chatter about anything, everything and nothing at all when we discussed and solved the problems of the universe in general and our little bit of it in particular
"Is it time for dinner yet?"
her desire to eat healthy, but still to eat what she wanted
requests for unscheduled pit stops
her delight to meet and chat with my leathercraft friends at the IFOLG show in Butler
her patience with me when I missed an off ramp and got us headed in the wrong direction just outside Chicago
how thrilled she was to hug, play and talk with her niece and nephews
shopping with her sister
how the route home seemed longer than the outbound route
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