It was beautiful, the day I spread the last of your ashes. The weather was amazing in Florence this April. The ride through the Tuscan mountains scenic, and relaxing. When I slowed down, and parked the Vespa along the roadside, it was near a vineyard overlooking a breathtaking view of the valley, with mountains in the distance.

It couldn’t have been more perfect, except it was. This gorgeous spot was also just a stone’s throw from the Windmill Bottega. The one we rode to, and had lunch together eight years before.

After Oscar (via a very early video call) helped me take it all in, I spread your ashes, and had lunch at our farm deli. Got a little love from a sweet (10-year-old) puppy. Had a plate of farm-fresh cheese, roasted pork, warm ciabatta, sweet apricot pastry, and a glass of red.

It was perfectly serene. Sunny, warm, with a gentle, cool breeze. Birds singing. Just a handful of people, quietly enjoying the day.

I couldn’t have asked for more …

To our friendship. The way we laughed together. Our inside jokes. Quiet moments spent in each other’s arms.

To our lasting love.

To you. Your graceful strength. Your gentle, kind way. Your patience with me.

To our life. For loving me through all of it. The beauty. Pain. Struggles. Magic. Astounding joy.

I am grateful for our brief, and brilliant life together. Our moments in the sun.