That time of year

This month brought both the third anniversary of P's death, on July 2, and our thirteenth wedding anniversary, on July 6. I cannot tell you how much I wish those events did not fall so close together, but they do. Nothing for it but to suck it up and deal.

I have more to say, but for now I'll leave you with a very early photo of me and P, taken about two years before we got married. This photo usually sits on my desk at work, and every time I look at it, I'm shocked at how young we are in it -- only twenty-two (me) and twenty-four (him). We grew up together, and that's an experience you can have only once in a lifetime.

I'm glad I had it with him.