He was always more than a bit of a minimalist.
I never thought I would regret how we lived then – I still don’t.
There may have been a day or two that I was sorry I didn’t have more to remember him by.
Recalling the reasons for our choices, memories of experiences forged together, are what truly honor his way of life – our way of life.
So when I find an old list with his writing stuck in the back of a drawer, it’s like a little gift.
I no longer think “this is all I have left.”