Four years on: 10 observations

1. I just realized today that Deb died five years after 9/11, so for the rest of my life the landmark anniversaries of that day, like next year's 10th, will also be a landmark for me, like next year's 5th. Since I'm bad with dates, this is frighteningly useful to me.

2. I often dream that Deb is still alive, and I always become aware of it being a dream. I always shrug and just go with it.

3. Four years can seem like an eternity and a moment at the same time. It seems like forever since I held her, but only a moment since we said goodbye.

4. The gas bill is still in her name. It was going to be a hassle to change it over, so I just left it. It don't bother them, it don't bother me.

5. I still watch movies and videos and think, "She would've loved this." The latest one: Disney's "Alice in Wonderland" synced to Pink Floyd's "The Wall." As both a Disney and a Floyd nut, she would approve.

6. After we got married, someone picked up the cloth rose petals that were tossed in front of her and gave them to us. Since then, whenever I take a vacation out of the country I leave a petal in each place I visit. So far, there are petals in Jamaica, Belize, Mexico, Grand Turk and Honduras.

7. Since we got married in my mom's trailer, we never really had a first dance. The only time I remember us dancing is at Barenaked Ladies concerts to "Call and Answer," so I guess that would be our song.

8. I've put away most of the stuff of hers I kept, but I always keep her coat on the coatrack by the door.

9. I still have the first present she ever got me: a book called "The Vigilantes of Montana." I have no idea why she thought I'd be interested in that. I've never read it.

10. I still wear a couple of her T-shirts.

Still miss you, Sweetie., and still love you.