How Did I Get This Far?

Day 724.

It’s a week away from 2 years without my Luke.

And as I traveled back from a visit to England, the tears tear at my thin veneer.

Dear Luke, a plane journey home always brought the anticipation of seeing you, and it would appear that it still does, coupled with the fear of the fact that I won’t. Not now, nor ever. Till the moment that I release from this life and pass through the much reported tunnel of light to see you smiling with outstretched arms to greet me.

The entire ten hour plane journey had my soul reaching for you - the gossamer barrier to despair hung over me, till the privacy of an airline toilet gave way to my sobbing.

I spent the past 12 days walking in your footsteps in London, in Kent, visiting our surviving dog and cat - so many emotions, your friends, our family, our family friends, our old horses, our old neighbors, our old neighborhoods, so many memories re-awoken, and yet, you are not there.

We danced at a family wedding. So many lukelove badges all around us.

As I watched your dad and brother dance, I could sense you right there, dancing with them and it was both glorious and devastating in equal measure.

Now back at the house, I lit your candle, and am back at the table, feet on chairs with cognac and English cigarettes and journaling, missing you, with such gravity.

Can I tolerate this pain any further?

I once again cannot imagine how I made it this far.