Today is Day One of my new life. My personal chronology will forever be divided into two chapters: everything that occurred before yesterday and everything that came after.
That's because last night my closest confidant, my muse, my soul mate and wife of 38 years was thankfully freed from the pain and agony of her cancer.
Today I will be surrounded by the family that I'm now the newly-appointed patriarch of. Lots of great people to share in my grief. But this morning I have retreated to the quiet of my studio to gather my thoughts. Six children and 19 grandchildren will need me to be their rock today. I will console them, reassure the youngest ones that grandpa ain't going anywhere yet. I will help organize tomorrow's Thanksgiving dinner and tell them we still have things to be thankful for. I will call the oxygen people to come pick up the tanks that line my garage. I will cancel her cellphone account and make funeral arrangements and take her clothes from the dryer.
That'll all happen later. Right now I am staring at my silent speakers. I know that music will come out of them again. Just not today.