Day Two

I still can hardly believe it. My Kenny. Gone. I knew of course it was coming. We all did. But it doesn't make the final good-bye any easier and I find myself living in that place of limbo with overwhelming sadness that he is actually gone, and a place of relief that he is....well...gone. As I crawled in bed last night I was wondering...."what is that feeling I feel?" and I took the time to figure it out. It had all the markings of relief, and as I gave it some thought I knew that what I was experiencing was a deep satisfaction that we did it. Kenny and I. We made it through this journey together, and even though it was hard, it did not destroy us. Our love was intact until the end.

An old friend of Kenny's sent me an email, and before I lose the words that were so beautifully written and so very encouraging, I wanted to record them here. (thank you Chris!)

I can only imagine what it is like to be in your shoes tonight. You have lost the love of your life, a good man whom you shepherded through a difficult illness. And you did it with grace and honesty and strength. My heart goes out to you.

But here is what I know. As the days and months unfold from here, you -- unlike so many people in the world -- know what true love really means. Very few people are privileged in that way. And while Ken has taught us all about dying with courage, you have taught us about living with the same courage.