How could it possibly be 18 months since I heard his booming voice and laid my head on his giant chest? How can I still be functioning as well as I am? And just when I feel like I'm on solid ground, two or three days in a row, good old Carmichael pays me a visit.

I took Josie down to the Mississippi today, down by the old pump house and near Twin Trees Park (which I don't think is even there anymore, but ahhh, what great, fuzzy memories,) and the railroad tracks.

Goofy pooch had a grand time! And honestly, it felt great outside, the river was beautiful and there was complete solitude so JoJo could run around off-leash.

Then, out of nowhere, wham, Carmichael spotted me and directed me to the place where an old friend, Dave Goodson, took pictures of us right after we got engaged. Took me back 41 years, just like that. How can all that time have passed so quickly? And now I'm 18 months without my love.

My grief journey feels like The Neverending Story. But do I want it to end? If it ends will it be like it all never happened? Ahhh, my brain is spinning. I stared down the tracks for a long time, wishing I could jump on the next train and just go and find the end of my story. Will there be love again? Do I even want that? Will I ever really publish a book? I do want that! Wishing for a crystal ball...

God bless you for reading.