We are teetering into the first year marker since Kevin’s death. It’s a rocky path. For the last couple of weeks I have had 2015 and 2016 running in tandem in my mind. I think about today and then I think about this day last year; then the tears come. I think it is an inevitable reality that one goes through, comparing what was with what is.
This time last year I had called some of Kevin’s friends and suggested that they stop by for their final farewells. He had pretty much slipped away from lucidity but he was still there. I know that for a fact. I recall when his buddy gave him a kiss on his cheek, we saw tears trickle down from the corners of Kevin’s closed eyes. He was very much with us, just so weak that all he could do was lie silently, waiting for final resolution.
I think about how hard it was for all of us, but particularly the kids, to see such a strong vibrant man diminished so totally. In health Kevin pulsed with life, with energy, interest and passion. When he was diagnosed with cancer he faced it bravely, prepared to battle — as long as it didn’t take his mind. His biggest fear was that it would take his mind. It didn’t. It didn’t take his voice until the last couple of days. He did remarkable, he was remarkable. I miss that voice.