Tuesday, December 19, 2017


Eighteen and a half years as of today. It’s cliché to say, it feels like only yesterday. It’s not true. It’s never just yesterday. It’s a long time where I remember you and me and everything else is sectioned off, jettisoned into Other Time. Some of it is for the better. Not everyone gets to pick where they want to end up, or has enough escape velocity to be somewhere else. Even fewer get the choice to be where they want to be. I’m lucky. We both are. 

Sunday, November 19, 2017


Happy monthly anniversary, my love. Despite some turbulence and changes, we are in a good place. We love each other. We are healthy. We’ve been in a worse places and I feel strangely hopeful about where we’re going to end up soon. I’ll pick up a new role soon and life will go on. I love you and I feel stronger with you.

Thursday, October 19, 2017


Happy monthly anniversary, my love. It's been a hard month since we lost Charlotte. We had the hard, tough decision to put her down as her brain tumor was consuming her. As much as we did it out of love, it was still agonizing to see that light go from her eyes when the vet gave her that final injection. We wept as we watched her slow down her breathing until an eternal stillness. She wasn't our cat anymore. She was a lifeless collection of fur and muscle and teeth and claws, forever gone and beyond our reach. It's in that heartbreaking moment where I don't want pets every again, no matter how much I love them and how much they love us. I don't want the heartache. I don't want the pain of giving them away to death. I don't want to see you cry. I know you have been through this many times before, but I don't want you to be hurt like this. I don't want you to ever be that hurt. And yet I know it's more likely than not that I'll die before you. I have a hard time reconciling that. I love you, but I can't protect you from the pain that will find us one day.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017


Here we are. Another monthly anniversary. Summer is finally over. The heat and the smoke are replaced by the welcome comfort of rain and the embrace of longer nights and flannel sheets. This is the best time of year. This is the time when two introverts can curl into the weather and the changing seasons and enjoy the stillness and smells. I think fall is for us. I think there's just enough darkness for us to enjoy longer evenings before the devouring maw of winter swallows us in a night that seems to go on forever. There's a welcome chill in the air, but no bone-cutting winds or snow that makes you feel wet no matter how long you stay by the heater or put on dry socks. This is enough, just right now. This is balanced for us. This is the soft patter of rain, this is the crunch of dry leaves underfoot. This is the smell of nature going into slumber. This is for us.  

Saturday, August 19, 2017


To my love, happy monthly anniversary. It's been a trying month, and at least we got through it together. Things are back to a new normal, and we have a peace in the house. I only wish one of our cats felt better. The bad air gave all of them a round of coughing or illness. And then the invasion of rodents. Or a failing fridge. Or work stress. It was always something. Strange, but the more it piled on, the more things got simple. Almost pure. Just you, the cats, being creative, making sure no rodent snuck its way into the house. You called me a hero for checking under the bed and in the dark corners for you. I don't know why I wasn't nervous; it was just something I had to do. Of course I would do it for you. I love you.