|Tappan Zee Bridge (M.A. Reilly, 2011)|
Beyond the restaurant's windows, the Hudson River flows and the light falling is nothing less than perfect. It is an unusually warm afternoon given that it is still winter, and Jane and I sit at a table for two. I listen as she explains she has learned to be satisfied with partial answers, to be satisfied with the answers she has. These are important words, ones so critical that I ask her to repeat them and even now, I feel certain that I have forgotten the arrangement of sounds and syllables.
It has been the longest year.
Awhile later we are outside walking by the river and we past a man, one who seems to be about the age Rob was when he died and this man asks quite boisterously if we are having a good day. He says this as he exhales smoke and I think how is it my husband who did not smoke is dead a year from lung cancer and this man who smokes is not?
The hardest thing to learn after the death is that there are no comforting answers to the question, Why Rob? Why him? Why?