Live To Tell The Tale

What began as light and late youthful adventure ended in tragedy. Our lives were irrevocably altered. I went to escape loss and death and what more appropriate place than Mexico to be confronted with the reality that there is no freedom from the real macabre. My husband grew gray, creased and wrinkled, watching and waiting for the patriarch to finally fall. And he fell on numerous occasions, but the final blow was slow and wheelchair-bound. An exit at the airport, we saw him off on his last adventure, the only one he wasn't departing for happily. Now the rest of us left are shaken but mending. I know how long it takes for the pain to lessen even to this discomfort degree. Even as we stretch, miles away from the everlasting days of those terrible events, this is when we experience loss most acutely. It smarts though the wounds grow closed and new adventures loom on the wintry horizon.