Several years ago, one of my uncles died suddenly: it was a shock. Yet my shock was nothing compared to what my aunt and cousins walked. We flew to Oregon to be with them and help and, well, eat. My family gathers for meals that bleed into the next meal. As we ate and laughed, we also began to wrestle with loss. All loss is grief, and all grief is a forced rearranging of life.

Alone or lonely? I can’t decide which one follows me. I have always liked to be alone, but this season is nothing like what I used to like. In college I would drive from California back to Nebraska to visit my mom, alone and many times with no music. The stillness and quiet was restful and refreshing. But this, this present aloneness is a mystery all its own.

A few days ago, a friend noticed that I was not wearing my wedding ring anymore. She mentioned her observation very graciously and cautiously; she observed that I was not wearing the ring that had lived on my finger for almost 17 years. This was not the first time someone had noticed it, but it was significant because it is good for me to talk about. She and her husband are safe people, so I knew I could give a thorough, teary-eyed answer.

I am a quirky person; well, all of us are actually. One quirky thing I do is count my days with coffee filters. I buy them in packs of 100, and so when I open them I always think, What will life be like in 100 days? Sometimes I know—summer will be over, school will be rolling, snow may be on the mountain—but days always pass, nothing slows them down.

So now I have hit 150 days, 5 months, since Kara died. I think about that day often and cry freely.

I read Psalm 100 2 weeks ago; I can’t believe more than 100 days have gone by. As these days tick by, I want to freeze them somehow but that is not one of my superpowers. Days seem to get easier, but there is always this ache. I ache as I look at my kids, as I see people in good marriages enjoying life, as I think of losing Kara. I know this ache will be with me the rest of my days, but in these days I have also enjoyed life.