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Last Friday I wrote A Perfect Last Sunday, my recollections of spending the last Sunday with my first husband before he died. Today is the 12th anniversary of his death. On September 2, 1998, he was an ill-fated passenger on Swissair_Flight_111 that crashed off the coast of Peggy’s Cove in Nova Scotia.
It’s not that I want to dilute the story of A Perfect Last Sunday by writing more about his death...my aim is not to make you stop reading my blog because a kleenex in hand is required before you click on your Google Reader, but writing this blog has been the first time that I have been able to write about my feelings. I talk about them a lot, but talking doesn’t have the same cathartic effect as writing.