Blue Screen

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When people ask how I came to be here, a student at my age, so far from home, I always reply with some version of “after my husband died I needed to re-boot my life, so…..” But although it’s convenient and universally understood, that’s really the wrong image. Usually when you re-boot, all goes back to normal, to the beginning, as it was before. You turn it off, you turn it on again, et voilà, all is as it should be.

But that doesn’t happen when someone dies. You turn it off, you turn it on, you sleep, you awaken, they’re still gone, you’re still here. The processor is still humming away, but the program is lost, suffered a fatal error. It’s the blue screen of death, each and every time you look at it.

Perhaps in times past people faded more quickly from memory. But now, with digital images, slideshows, videos, audio recordings, the face and smile and voice of the lost one remain here on earth, ever present. A beautiful picture of Shel sits on my desk, just next to this keyboard, and he’s looking right into my eyes every time I dare to glance that way.

It will be two years this week since he died. Two of the longest and shortest years of my life.

 

Explore posts in the same categories: Becoming A Winemaker

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