So it’s been TWO YEARS since Marjorie’s passing, and I wish i could say it’s gotten easier, but, really, the opposite is true. I think the first year was an adjustment – dealing with the aftermath, answering your loving cards and touching letters, being thrilled at the outpouring of sympathy and the sheer depth of affection for her, and, most notably, the fact that you REALLY GOT HER. That meant everything to me, and I’m sure to her. So the first year, after dealing with all the paperwork, bank stuff, account passwords, subscriptions, adopted pigs(!), and ephemera, I decided I needed a break to clear my head and distract my heart. So I bought a good used Volvo wagon and set off on a month-long (and nearly 8,000 mile) tour of a healthy swath of America. My three wonderful, supportive, generous adult children each joined me to ride shotgun on a leg of the road trip, and I also visited with cousins, nieces, nephews, my sis, a goddaughter, Marjorie’s adorable Aunt Minta Coeyman (who passed, at 97, this June), and friends along the way. I left a dozen copies behind of a Marjorie photo book I had printed for the journey. (Some of the folks I left it with have since told me they look at it every day). Well, the EPIC ROAD TRIP worked like a charm. I was delighted by every mile, distracted by the beauty and variety of this country - be it the rolling farmland of Indiana, the resilient character and public art of Cleveland, the friendly confines of Wrigley Field and the stunning architecture of Chicago, the astounding collection at the KC’s Nelson - Atkins Museum of Art, enchanting and scrumptious New Mexico, arty, kooky Marfa, Texas, the spectacular natural swimming holes of Austin, San Antonio’s gorgeous Riverwalk, Alamo and old misions, funky, soulful Memphis, Asheville’s Blue Ridge Mountain Highway, or the beautiful beaming faces of my grandsons when I finally arrived back in NJ where I started. So, yes -worked like a charm. Until I got back to my empty house. It hit me like a ton of bricks. No Marjorie. Ever again. So 2020 has been tough - the solitary quarantining (not quite - I have my pup Lucie), lots of thinking time and snacking and guitar strumming - but no lovely, soulful Marjorie. No making travel plans - or just running down to NYC with no itinerary but to exult in the deliciousness of the Apple. No movie dates at our fave arty movie theatre. No museum adventures. I do occasionally visit or drive by spots we used to frequent. I post a lot of photos. I think about the life we had. I let myself wallow in sadness if I need to. I am so grateful to have been her husband for 15 glorious years of true love, adventure, and companionship. But the sadness still overwhelms sometimes, and it’s not Covid or Trumpism, or loneliness. It’s what she was. And, I’m afraid, that is irreplaceable.