Planning a celebration of life for my wife wasn't something I expected to be doing at 38. I mean, fortunately I don't have to do much actual planning because I have a great support network, but you get my point.
I picked up Hillary's death certificate today along with the urns and her cremated remains. I haven't been able to bring myself to even look at the urns, let alone touch them. They are safely tucked away in a place where children's laughter will wash over them. Or loud arguments, that's the nature of siblings.
I started filling out government paperwork, which required copies of both the death and marriage certificate. Holding both in my hands at the same time was surreal and crushing.
For the first time in my life when putting the kids to bed I got, "I love you daddy."
It was a complicated day.