Bitter pain of wrenching loss

7:08am, my apartment in Chandler, Arizona, Saturday morning, December 18, 2021. The road curved and flattened before undulating down. Was this the right path? Had I missed a turn? It seemed familiar, yet so much time had passed I couldn’t be sure. Then instantly, as if right on cue, the meadow opened before me. Sunlight washed over tall yellow flowers, the jagged mountains rose to meet the clouds and there, off in the distance, was the tiny house we called home. Bitter pain of wrenching loss, ridiculous hope for an impossible reunion and the always tortuous memories surrounded me. And in that moment I could not help but ask the question I knew would never be answered, “How did something so beautiful ever end?”