Saturday marked two years since Megan’s death. I could sit down to write about how it was a horrible weekend, curling into the fetal position and crying more often than not. I could note how the minute I woke up, a tightness seized in my chest and a chill shot through my body. I could give an anecdote about walking through our dining room, where Megan’s ashes rest, and not being able to keep my composure.
In all respects, it was a pretty good weekend. Shelby was staying at grandparents, so Sarah and I went to dinner and did some ice skating (in 70 degree weather, no less) on Friday. I took a hike Saturday morning while Sarah stayed home to work on some things. Upon my return, we went out to grab some lunch and do some running around. By saturday evening, the winter’s first snowfall had arrived, and Sunday morning, there was a few inches beautifully blanketing the ground, so we took a drive through the nearby national and county parks.