How to Bear Witness
We’re gathered around the long couch in my friend’s living room. It’s an unseasonably warm February day, but we’re inside, staring at the television. To my left is a table laden with three kinds of cake. To my right, a toddler bangs a chair with a plastic drum stick.
“Are we ready?” my friend asks.
No, I think. How can you ever be ready for this?
She hits play and the bar under the star-studded album art begins to move: We’re listening to a song written, produced, and recorded by my husband. The first single released after his death from a spontaneous hemorrhage in September.
Nothing can prepare you for losing your husband at the age of 35—or for the number of firsts that come after it.
