Goodbye, Rob

Rob is in heaven today.

I said goodbye to him two and a half years ago. He moved out. And we started our lives apart from each other. Today is sad. I think of him, now in heaven. Finally free from that crippled body. Can you imagine how he sounds? I can hear his laughter still. I'm sure it's ringing through heaven as the angels celebrate along with him. And for that, I celebrate with him.

But he is gone. How can this be real?

If we had said our final goodbyes two years ago, today would find me empty. Destitute and lost. But the one solace I find rests in our reconciliation. The sweet and simple forgiveness that defined the last year of our relationship. I can't tell you how much it comforts my heart to know that he loved me until his last breath. And I love him. Today and always. Our last moments together, I fed him breakfast. And if his family hadn't been in the room, I would have laid up next to him. And touched his skin. And kissed his shoulders. I wonder now why I didn't do it when I had the chance. But I think it may have outraged his family. I don't know if they understand the love that, even after our divorce, drew us together.

So, there is a measure of hope in all this dispair. And tomorrow, the sun will rise and I will go to work and teach just like I do every Monday. Lacking serenade and pomp. The day will go on for everyone just like every day goes. But for me, my thoughts will be on him and how happy he must be, now free from his suffering.

His vest hangs in my closet. It's all I kept.