The Saddest One Yet

 Paul died on Monday morning. 

I called Judi when I got up in the afternoon. She was understandably distraught, said that it felt like half of her was missing. I can't imagine. I honestly can't imagine.

We talked for about ten or fifteen minutes before I had to start getting ready for work. Dave got online and sent her some flowers. We wanted her to know that we are thinking about her. And about Paul.

We've known Judi and Paul for 22 years. We met Judi when we started at the old clay studio. I was about 27 years old then, Dave 28. Judi and Paul were in their late 50s or early 60s then. Judi had just retired. A few years later, she and I started walking together every morning. Then Dave and I started to house and dog-sit (we've been through three dogs now, always sheepdogs) for them while they traveled around the world.

Time flies.

Paul had been sick for awhile, went into assisted living after he fell at home. That was not quite a year ago.

I'm sad.

I'm at work and I don't want to cry about this. I don't want to think any more about it right now.

WORK

I'm at work now. It is a holiday, so I'm getting holiday pay (time and a half). So that's good. 

On my way to work, the sky was a haze of smoke. My eyes were burning. 

This year. This is the saddest year.