Where you go, I can't follow

It’s so heavy. The heaviness and the slowing down of time. I try to distract myself in small ways. The day you left, I did the NYT crossword. The final word I found was yours, my love. (*1958 romantic comedy that won Best Picture – Gigi)

In the days following her death, my eyes were so swollen with tears that I could no longer see. In my dimly lit room, I pointed my camera at the tv screen and randomly pressed the shutter release. 

Days later, I downloaded the images. I didn’t notice it at first, but what I had captured made me feel comforted in some small way.  It was a fleeting moment of chance, but there in front of me was the story of her passing.