He was my best friend. My very best friend.
This statement surrounded me as I was driving home after practicing music at church tonight. My friend helped me record some of the songs I have written since Shawn’s death. My spirit was enthused from a night filled with music. The drive home was not as enchanting. It was quite dark outside and the road was difficult to see. The moon must have been hiding.
I always enjoyed driving in the car with Shawn. I especially enjoyed driving with him at night when the earth was calm and still. Sometimes I would ask him as we approached our home to drive around the block one more time just to make the peaceful car ride with two sleeping children last longer. Shawn would remind me that this wasted gas money and asked if I could sit in the car in our driveway if I was so inclined. I would beg, “please, just drive a little longer. It is so peaceful. I like driving with you.” Without further comment he would take the long block home.
I didn’t enjoy driving home tonight without him. I was hesitant on the road, aware of the responsibility I had to not hit a deer, not fall asleep and not wander across the median. I never had to pay much attention before. Shawn was a safe and skilled driver. He used to joke with me that he should be a good driver being he was trained at it for his line of work. The road seemed to swallow me and without my husband to share my thoughts, the quiet, calm world felt too vast.
All I could think of as I drove was that he was my best friend. My very best friend.
