It’s December 31st at 8 pm as I write this. Gerry is in the living room with Maya watching a hockey game. I’m propped up in bed tapping out these words on my iPad and missing having my little buddy beside me. It’s been a quiet day. We went to the storage locker and, with Laurinda’s help, got the one remaining item out and brought it home. It’s an old steamer trunk filled with ephemera from my parents like Dad’s army uniform and medals and Mom’s wedding dress. Many of the things in the trunk originated here in Moose Jaw where Mom and Dad got married and started their family. They, like me, have come home.
With that, we are all moved into our new home here in Moose Jaw. Some things are still in boxes and there’s sorting to do downstairs, but we are home. Home that feels the void of not having Murphy here. Home where my heart aches from the grief of coming to terms with his passing.
Today has been a quiet day with few of the usual things I like to tend to before we head into a new year. I created a new folder on my MacBook called 2023 Writing. That’s about as far as I got. This year I’m not posting my Top Ten Reads from 2022 and I haven’t thought of writing or other intentions for the coming year. I made it through this final day of 2022 with a broken heart and tears in my eyes. I made it through. And that’s enough.