The hours seem to slowly drift by. I can’t say why exactly, but they do. Yesterday, as I was with a friend and reached into my wallet to pay for something, there was Philip’s bracelet. He had worn it for years, and I don’t even remember when I got it from him. It wasn’t like I always have the bracelet in my possession, but rather that I have held it for him on many of his hospital stays. What struck me is that he will never wear it again. What do I do with his things? I want to have a few of his things around, and yet, these things don’t fill the gaping hole caused by his passing. The decisions on what to keep seem endless. Perhaps it is not yet time for these decisions. Shelly and I cling to each other, and much to my surprise, prefer to cry in private. It isn’t that we are ashamed of our tears, it is more that we can’t as yet share the hole that has been left in our hearts. We both feel very strongly that Philip is in a better place. He is no longer encumbered with medical issues. I have a picture of him when he was in good shape medically, and I think that is what he looks like now. The hole in our hearts is really about us. We are sure Phil is in a better place. We just miss him terribly.