After Ken died, I had a few awkward experiences — I think I may have mentioned them — telling acquaintances who somehow didn’t know that Ken was gone. It is easier with practice of course. Initially, saying the words was impossible without tears. Then, saying the words was just awkward, in part because I was causing pain and sometimes embarrassment when I answered a variation of THAT question: “Where’s Ken/How’s old Ken/Is Ken here with you?” But I got better at it after a bit and was eventually able to tell a version of his story that would bring comfort.

It’s been awhile since I’ve had to tell someone that he’s gone but tonight I was at an event that Ken would have attended, would have been thrilled to attend. Old friends were there and they all knew — except one who I haven’t seen in probably five years. She exclaimed when she saw me and literally ran over for a hug. “It’s so good to see you. How long has it been? Where’s Ken?” Then she cried when I told her and I felt the lump forming in my throat. I didn’t cry then, though I am now. I told her how much he loved it there and she told me how much they had all loved him. It’s true. I feel it every day but I forget sometimes how he brightened every life that he entered.

She hugged me again and again and I hope that it comforted her. For me though, it was like I lost him all over again tonight and I wonder how I’ll sleep.