I’m back to working on the book. Here is a snippet from this morning:
In many ways I was terrified for the trials to be over. I was also ashamed to share this with anyone. Naturally everyone in my sphere was anxious for this all to end and for me to be able to get back to a “normal life”. I wasn’t. I guess some part of me knew what was coming next. And it was a big black hole.
The drama of the investigation and trials kept my grief at bay for two years. It was much easier to focus on all of that fight fight fight than it was the reality of the rest of my life. If I didn’t have that to think about when I got up in the morning–what would happen in court that day, what journalist I might hear from, how I was expected to participate in the investigation–then what did I have? The gaping emptiness of Cindy being permanently gone from my present and all my forevers slapped me square in the face. In many ways the trials ending was the hardest part of the whole legal process for me. They brought a welcomed prolonging of the deepest sadness you could ever imagine. I was 31 years old and couldn’t imagine the landscape of my future without Cindy. In some ways I still can’t. Yet life unimaginably goes on.