Another year

I have much to be grateful for and I am.
But it still hurts to not have John here with me. And on New Year's Eve, a day when everyone is wishing everyone blessings and happiness for the coming new year and anticipating all the good that can be, it is very sad to know the year will not include having John here with me physically.
I often think about those last days and hours I spent with him.
One of the things John said to me on our last day together [when we were discussing my elevated cholesterol level and how Ineeded to make sure I treated it] was "I don't want to be here without you." That goes for me too, Sweetheart. I don't want to be here without you either.
I am reminded of a Garth Brooks song "If Tomorrow Never Comes".

The answer is Yes, my Love. I knew, I know.

Merry Christmas, Sweetheart!

So happy and grateful for all the happy times we shared.

Two hardest saddest days of the year

I think Christmas Eve and Christmas Day must be the hardest saddest days of the year for people who have lost someone. I know they are for me.
These two days always brought us such joy.
I am grateful I have so many wonderful memories of Christmases past.

This is such a tough time of year

I still have good days and bad days. And this week has had a bunch of bad days.
I saw an older gentleman walking outside a store yesterday and for some reason he made me think of John if he had lived to be an older man.
I wonder what John would have looked like. I wonder what our life would have been like.
I wish we had been able to share our older years together. We thought we would.
I can't wait for Christmas to be over.

Normal

Life is slowly getting back to normal. Day by day, my health is improving. But I am still traumatized by what happened and afraid to be alone. Yet, there is no choice.
And that is one more thing that losing John has left me with - fear.
When you live with someone day after day, you assume [wrongly] that you have forever together and all will be well.
Then the rug gets pulled out from under you and you realize how many ways you have to adjust.
Even something as being afraid to be alone because something might happen to you becomes a major worry. This same medical emergency happened to me several years ago but John was home then and he called 911. John's presence has always calmed me.
I know he was with me this time in the best way he could be and that helps.
Even today, I turned the radio on as I was out Christmas shopping and the song "I'll Be There" by The Four Tops was playing:

(Reach out) Come on girl reach out for me
Reach out, just look over your shoulder
I'll be there to give you all the love you need
And I'll be there you can always depend on me
I'll be there 

So I have to trust that I really am not alone and I am being cared for.

And we will be together again.

Yesterday was scary

I went to New York for Thanksgiving and must have caught some kind of bug on the plane on the way home.
By Monday I knew I had at least a cold so I started to medicate with herbs and vitamins and over the counter stuff.
By Wednesday I knew things were worse so I called my doctor's office but all I could get was an appointment with a PA who wasn't that concerned about my symptoms and basically ordered more over the counter stuff.  She gave me a prescription for an antibiotic but told me to wait at least 5 days before I filled it because she didn't think I needed it yet. The main inhaler she ordered wasn't approved by the insurance.
By that night I knew I was in trouble. My symptoms were worse. I lost my voice and my throat was raw. I barely slept and spent all night sipping tea and honey to try to keep my throat open. I know my history. This type of infection gets bad quickly with me.
I called my doctor's office as soon as they opened and got an appointment for 10:45. When I arrived, the doctor was running late so  he sent in his medical student to start the exam so I wouldn't be sitting alone so long.
In walked a very young and very nice young man in a white lab coat. I tried to answer his questions but could only talk in a whisper and I could tell my throat was getting tighter by the minute. I swallowed and in that instant my throat closed up and I couldn't breathe. I stood up and went into a panic. All I could do was grunt and the more I struggled to breathe the harder it became.
The poor medical student grabbed my hands, opened the door, and called for help. Within seconds a doctor and two nurses responded. By this time I was in dire straits. The noises I was making was scaring everyone I'm sure and I was afraid I was going to lose consciousness or worse. It's a desperate feeling when you feel you can't breathe. But I have to say both the doctor and med student were excellent. They did everything they could to keep me calm and they held my hands while they talked to me and that did more than anything to convince me that I was going to be OK. They told me they had called for an ambulance to take me to the hospital.
Throughout it all I talked to John and asked him to be with me. At one point I felt a warmth on my left arm and I felt it was John.
The ambulance arrived, they did their medic thing and loaded me up for the trip to the hospital.
There I had more tests, oxygen, etc. My nurse was wonderful. She was young and took her time, explaining everything as she went. I looked at her name tag when she introduced herself and had to laugh. Of all the names in the world, her name was the same name as John's ex-wife, the one who had caused us so much grief throughout so much of our marriage. I figured this was John's doing. He picked a name that would get my attention so I would know he was there and he picked a name that he hoped would make me laugh. He was right.
Then the kicker was she told me she was only covering for my real nurse because he was on lunch break. She said he would come in when he was back.
He did and he introduced himself to me.
His name was John. Messages received loud and clear.
To make a long story short, I had another episode of difficult breathing but after all tests came back negative, it was decided I had a very bad respiratory infection and I was sent home with inhalers, steroids, muscle relaxers, and a strong antibiotic. My friend came and he took Bella to the kennel for me so she would be safe and cared for for the next several days.
I went home and slept.
And thanked John for still being with me as I knew he would be.

Miss you, Mom

John's Mom passed away one year ago today.
Where did the time go?
I miss her and I am grateful for the time we had together and the gift of her love.

Happy Thanksgiving, Sweetheart

I am grateful.

Thankful for what was

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day and I miss John. We always loved celebrating this Holiday. John loved the turkey and all the trimmings.
And we enjoyed making the dinner together.
I miss him especially at this time of year as I am sure all people who have lost loved ones do.
But I am thankful for the time we had together. I carry his love with me always.

Thanksgiving 1979

3 1/2 years today

Today marks 3 1/2 years since John passed. Not an especially momentous anniversary but an anniversary nonetheless. Every month is an anniversary. Every Sunday night. Every Monday morning.
Every day without him.
I don't know why I continue to note the anniversaries. It's just something I can't help noting. It's not something I celebrate like we did with our other anniversaries. But, like everything else, John and I marked the events in our life together and so I mark this one. I wonder if he does too.
I miss you, Sweetheart. But I know you know that.

Once again I felt John watching over me

I was driving home yesterday afternoon. And playing songs from my iPad through my car stereo system. I had on one of my favorite Josh Groban albums and the song playing was "To Where You Are", the song I had sung at John's funeral Mass.

I was crying. That song always makes me cry. And of course I was thinking about John and missing him and also thinking about his funeral. It is safe to say I did not have my mind on my driving and my vision was a little blurred.  I also had a coffee in my right hand so I was only driving with my left hand on the wheel. But, in my defense, I was driving up my street and only going about 25 miles an hour. I was not in a hurry.
All of  a sudden, to my right, a car started backing out of its driveway. It was clear the driver did not see me. With split second timing, I saw the car veer into my space and at the same time, pulled my car to the left and around the oncoming car, not missing a beat.
It happened in a second and when it was over I knew I had not done that on my own. The maneuvering was so smooth and easy. I didn't even have to think about it. By the time what was happening registered, it was over and I was out of danger.
I know that was John helping me. As the song says he is "watching over me". And I thanked him.

My new book

I have begun writing my new book in earnest. I know it's going to be hard since I want to incorporate my journey - losing John, living here without him physically with me, connecting with him in a different way.
But I want to do this and I think if I do it right, I can help others in the same situation as me.
The strange thing is that as I write about our life, even though it's in a fictional way, I feel closer to John. I feel him smiling and approving and helping me.

My soldier

 

Today is Veterans Day. 

This is my veteran, my soldier, my Love.

Thank you

Bella has been sick the past couple of days and I have been worried about her, of course. That also meant vet visits and unexpected cost.
But I am so grateful to John and his Mom for taking care of me and making it possible for me to be able to take care of our "kids" without worrying how I was going to pay for it.
Worrying stinks. Bella being better today is wonderful.
Knowing that John and his Mom have my back and are still here with me is priceless.
Thank you, John and Mom.

"Talked" with John today

I had a wonderful session today with Mollie Morning Star, a gifted medium.
John came through as well as his Mom. I even got to spend time with Bill, my ex-husband and we made peace with each other.
But the best gift of all was hearing messages to me from John.
It left me feeling happy and peaceful. I have always known John was still with me but the messages that came through today made it all more real.
Connecting this way will never be as good as being with John face to face. I know I have to wait for that. But it helped.

I let another piece of our history go this week

I finally sold the antique car parts that John had. John had a wonderful eBay business going when he passed. He was buying and selling antique Mercedes parts and doing very well. He had a couple of cars that he had stripped and was selling the parts and he also bought other parts and refurbished them and then sold those as well. He had customers all over the world.
When he passed I gathered all the parts and put them in storage so that I could get my car in the garage. I didn't know how I was going to get rid of them though. There was no way I was going to be able to do what John had done and I was stymied how I was going to sell the lot as a whole. So they languished for three years in storage.
Then recently a dear friend put me in touch with someone who was able to find a buyer for me.
I was able to sell everything including some other big items that were stored as well.
It was bittersweet but I know John was there with me as everything was loaded onto the trailer and hauled away. One of the guys in the group was even named John!

John sent me another song this morning

From Here to the Moon and Back

I could hold out my arms, say "I love you this much"
I could tell you how long I will long for your touch
How much and how far would I go to prove
The depth and the breadth of my love for you?
From here to the moon and back
Who else in this world will love you like that?
Love everlasting, I promise you that
From here to the moon and back
From here to the moon and back
I want you to know you can always depend
On promises made and love without end
No need to wonder how faithful I'll be
Now and on into eternity
From here to the moon and back
Who else in this world will love you like that?
Forever and always, I'll be where you're at
From here to the moon and back
From here to the moon and back
I would blow you a kiss from the star where I sat
I would call out your name to echo through the vast
Thank heaven for you and to God, tip my hat
From here to the moon and back
And I'll spend forever just proving that fact
From here to the moon and back
From here to the moon and back...

A revelation

I had a thought today that made me feel good: John and I are in a mixed marriage now. He is a Being of Light and I am Corporeal. But we can make it work.
This strange thought was probably inspired by the metaphysical book that I am reading right now but that doesn't make it any more illogical. I have always felt that what John and I have is very special. That if any couple could still be together after one of us has transitioned that it would be us.
So why not? What is there to lose?
I still feel John with me, encouraging me, loving me.
I know we will be together again and I have to make the most of my time left here, that there is a reason why I am still here.
It is no coincidence that I have started writing again, that I am feeling a sense of purpose.
I can feel John smiling.

A visit?

Every so often I take a picture and a strange light appears in the frame.
Could be a trick of the camera.
Could be my poor photography skills.
Could be bad lighting.
Could be nothing.
Or maybe....

Sounds

I was in my office yesterday and the cats were roaming around the house and playing. Just being cats. Running, chasing. And one of them must have jostled the laundry room door and it made that familiar noise it always made when John was coming in the house from the garage. The change in air pressure would make the laundry room door wiggle and when I heard it my heart would know he was home and all was well.
And yesterday for a fraction of a second my heart thought all was well again.
But it wasn't.

Dreams can be wonderful - waking up not so much

I fell asleep on the sofa this afternoon while reading and had a dream about John. In it, I needed to talk with him about something important. I remember feeling the urgency and asking him if we could talk. He said "Yes" and we should talk this evening. I remember feeling so relieved and looking forward to solving the problem.
And then I woke up and for a split second I felt so happy, so relieved and was actually looking forward to talking with him and solving the [dream] problem.
And then it hit me.
There was not going to be any talk and the problem wasn't the issue.
The problem was John isn't here.
John isn't here.
John isn't here.
The feeling of sadness and let down and pure utter loneliness when reality hit - I can't describe it.
I love dreaming about John. Even a crazy dream is time spent with him.
But oh how I miss him when I wake up.

20 years ago today

20 years ago this morning, John and I rolled into Fountain Hills, signed the mortgage on our house and moved into our home.

I can't believe it's been that long.

It was Labor Day week when we left. The movers arrived on Tuesday.

We left on Wednesday in our van - with our dog Willie, our 3 cats - Meow-Meow, Squeaker, and Smudge, and our parakeet Nikki that chirped for 2500 miles.

We stayed in Dayton, St Louis and Amarillo on the way.

We arrived in Flagstaff that Saturday.

We stayed in motels in Flag and Phoenix Sat/Sun and arrived in Fountain Hills on Monday morning.

Our furniture didn't arrive until Thursday so we camped out on the floor until then.

We spent a ton of money those first few days buying appliances and rugs and we enjoyed every minute of our new life. 

Moving to AZ was the best move we ever made. We never regretted it.

More Hello's

I went to Mass this morning. The couple behind me reminded me of John's parents, especially the gentleman. He sounded just like Dad. When I realized that, I actually had a pang of sorrow. I can’t say that I ever really knew John's father well but hearing someone sound so much like him made me sad and I missed him. I guess I also missed the times that all of us spent together too.
And then I looked up and watched in amazement as a man entered wearing a shirt just like the one I picked out for John to wear in his casket. And then another man was wearing another shirt similar to another one John has. And then as I walked up to Communion, the man next to me was wearing another shirt just like another one of John's. Were those all just coincidences or were they hello’s from John? I want to believe they were. It made me sad but it made me feel good too and closer to John.

Scanned more pictures today

I loved John's beard but occasionally he would get tired of it and shave it off. He still looked so handsome.

In our kitchen Lehman PA March 1989

At a bed and breakfast inn July 1989

Hello's from John

I asked John for a sign from him this week since this week is our anniversary.
He came through twice and I am blown away.
The first time  was on our anniversary day. I had scheduled a massage for that afternoon, and afterwards, when I got in my car, I turned on the power to the audio system. I "felt" that John wanted me to turn on the radio but before I could change the source to radio it synched to the bluetooth on my iPhone and "You Needed Me" started playing. "Our " song, our wedding song!
Then today I made a phone call to a friend about selling John's antique car parts. This friend knows someone who might be able to help me. But the friend wasn't available so I left a voice mail. I no sooner clicked off that phone call when my phone, for no apparent reason, started playing our wedding song again!
It just started playing all by itself.
It had to be John again.
I love you, John. Thank you.

Our wedding reception

John and I loved to tell the story of our wedding reception.

The place we had our celebration was a bar called Vispi's in Edwardsville PA.

That's where some of those pictures were taken that I posted.
It was kind of a gay bar but not - everyone went there - remember this was 1981.
It was a very nice upscale place but lots of red flocked wallpaper, sofas, stained glass, etc.
We were regulars there - the owner and staff knew us.
Anyway, that Spring the bar burned down. 
So they were in the process of rebuilding and opened back up the month we were getting married. We didn't know what we wanted to do for our wedding.

We were essentially eloping - we only made the decision to get married earlier that month. In fact we made the decision right in that bar.
We had about 20 friends we wanted to invite. Our parents knew nothing about all this until after we got married.
So we were at the bar the first week it opened - they hadn't had their Grand Opening yet and we were telling them about our upcoming marriage.

They told us if we had the reception there they would give us a good deal.
Did they ever!
They gave us hors d'oeuvres and open bar for two hours for $35!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Including a champagne toast!
They figured it was good advertising and the guests would linger afterwards, which they did.
And they gave us a lead on a guy who baked our wedding cake for $10. He was an ex-con who learned baking in jail [for manslaughter]. He sold cakes out of his house.
So our wedding reception cost us $45.
You can't make this up.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart!

32 years ago today, John and I eloped. We were married by a JP in a little courthouse in Wilkes Barre, PA and then had a small reception in our favorite hangout with a few friends. It was the most wonderful day.

Our Song

39 months today

Missing you, John. So much.
Saw this today on Facebook and it's as though John was reaching out to me.

This message keeps coming up this week

I've been asking John for a message and this week I have been coming across messages with the same theme - "I'll see you again". I know that's what he wants me to know.

What I Wouldn't Give

I was driving along in the car today playing my new Glen Campbell album and this song came on. I felt it was directly from John since I was thinking about him and wishing he was with me. It made me cry. I know John was talking to me.
The lyrics and video aren't available on the Internet yet but here they are. It's a beautiful melody.

What I wouldn't give to make you stronger
What I wouldn't give to see you smile again
What I wouldn't give to erase that fear in your eyes
What I wouldn't give to see you smile
Just close your eyes
I'll see you again
Just close your eyes
I'll see you again

What I wouldn't give to make you stronger
What I wouldn't give to see you smile again
What I wouldn't give to erase that fear in your eyes
I'll see you again

Still Mine

This past Sunday I took myself to the movies and saw a lovely film called Still Mine. Based on an actual story, it is a touching love story about a couple in their twilight years. It tells how Craig Morrison (Academy Award (R) nominee James Cromwell) defies bureaucracy when he sets out to build a more suitable house for his ailing wife Irene played by Academy Award (R) nominee Geneviève Bujold. It is about the enduring love between a husband and wife, married for over 60 years and how they face the problems of aging and frailty, never losing sight of their devotion to each other.
Of course, it made me think of me and John. The lead male character had  a lot of traits just like John including doing a lot of building all on his own.
John and I had looked forward to growing old together. We were just starting to feel the changes associated with aging. I am very sad that we missed out on that. I loved John from his 30's to his 60's and knew I would love him forever. Yes, we both knew we no longer looked as we did when we first met. But our love was deeper too. Health problems, sagging skin, less energy - none of it mattered. I loved everything about John. I feel robbed of the opportunity to know him in the twilight of our years.
I miss sharing that with him.
I started scanning more pictures yesterday. I dread coming to the end of the pictures but for now I am enjoying going through them. This is John with baby Jessie in July 1999. John was 56 years old. Jessie was only 7 weeks.

Little reminders

I bought this chain with charms this week to commemorate John. It has a beautiful saying, his initial, and a stone to signify April, his birth month. I have decided this is my anniversary present to me from John.

I also had a beautiful Hello from John today too. On my way to lunch with a dear friend, I turned on my car radio and was attempting to synch my Cloud player with the speaker system to play some songs. Instead the car synched two songs from my iPhone. They were "Lay Lady Lay" by Bob Dylan and "You Needed Me" by Anne Murray - two songs that mean a lot to me and John. I know John had those play for me because I was feeling down and missing him. He was reaching out and saying "Hi, I'm still here and I love you." I love you, too, Sweetheart. Always.

Until I met you

April 1978

An epiphany

I have been reading metaphysical books about the afterlife like crazy ever since John passed. I have this insatiable need to know where John is, what he is doing, that he's OK.
The book I am reading now said something that touched me. It talked about letting go, not meaning that our loved ones are leaving us but releasing them so that we can have a new relationship with them in the way they are now, so that they can reach out to us. The book said that when we hold on to the past and mourn heavily that it blocks communication.
And so I was driving today and thinking about that and listening to this song and the words took on new meaning.
I know - I trust - I believe - that John still loves me with all his heart just as he did when he was here physically. And I still love him, maybe more than ever. So I need to allow him to forge a new relationship with me so that we can still be together - him where he is and me where I am now - until we can be together again.
And suddenly I felt good inside. I felt John loving me. And I realized I was actually smiling!
Smiling!
Can it be that that is the answer?
Can it be that simple?
I felt I heard John telling me in my head that this was the answer.
To trust him.
To continue to love him.
That he would always be my John.
Always.
Always.

Thank you, Mom and John

Today marks 7 months since John's Mom passed. It seems longer, maybe because she was sick for so long and not really alert the past few months of her life.
I am so grateful to her and for more than just the way she has taken care of me financially. She gave me so much. She allowed me to be a daughter, something I have never really experienced fully.
She gave me self-confidence. Taking care of her in all the ways I needed to helped me learn that I can do things I didn't think I could.
And she gave me a much-needed distraction and a reason to keep going after John passed. I knew I had to be here for her because if I wasn't, she would suffer. And there was no way I was going to let that happen.
She told me she would be my mother and she was.
And I am grateful and thankful to John, too for entrusting her to me. He knew I wouldn't let him down.
I love you both and miss you.

John and his Mom April 2010

Today is the 24th again

Today marks three years and two months - not a special anniversary by any means except it's another month that John is gone.
Sometimes I just sit and think about him not being here and I still can't believe it. How can someone just be gone? How can someone so full of life, whose smile lit up the room, whose laugh made my heart sing with pleasure, who made my world whole and made me feel so loved, so secure - just be gone?
Poof.
Here one minute.
Gone the next.
It is something I struggle with every day.
And yet I can still think about John. I can still remember him. I can remember our life and know in my heart of hearts that he still loves me. That we will be together again.
And when I think about how I know he felt - no, he feels about me my heart swells with the knowledge that he is still here. He still cares. He still loves me.
Our love does not die.
It won't.
So he may be gone three years and two months today but that means I am three years and two months closer to being with him again.

Loss of hope

I have reached that “what’s the point” stage of grief and I find it hard to move past this. 
It’s almost as if a part of my mind/heart thought this would be over. That somehow John would be back. Now that I have reached the three year mark, I know this loss is true and not going to change. 
And even though I know and feel that John is still with me in the only way he can be right now, it’s not enough and it doesn’t change the day to day constant feeling of loss. The future just yawns out in front of me and I see and feel nothing of interest. 
I have tried. 
I really think I have given it a good try but there is no spark. 
I go through the motions. I get things done. I have even done things that look future-oriented. I’m taking classes, I got a new puppy. I meet friends for meals. I visit family back East. I go to movies and I shop. 
But in the end there is no true feeling of inner deep happiness. That all ended when John passed. When John was here anything and everything was wonderful – even enjoying the simple act of watching the cats play. That feeling of “us” was all I needed. Now I am just me and it’s not enough.
My therapist wants me to get out and develop a new network of friends. My heart just isn't in it.

A dream is worth so much

I dreamt about John last night. Most of it was just a dream. Some of it was obviously just a dream with dream logic.
But throughout all of it was the feeling of everything being all right. That feeling of peace of just being with John.
Everything felt right again.
And then there was one point when I was actually able to touch and feel him. I know that part wasn't a dream. That was a visit.
Yesterday I had asked John for a sign, any sign. Just something to let me know he was still with me.
And then early this morning I got the most wonderful gift.
I woke up feeling good, happy, at peace. For the first time in a long time. And that feeling has stayed with me.
So I know the message is what I was hoping.
John is still here. He will always be here. He still loves me and will always love me.
Everything is all right. Everything is as it should be.
I know I will go back to feeling bad at times but I will come back to this dream and remember this good feeling too.
Thank you, John. I love you so much.

People who don't know what they are talking about should just shut up

I went to see my cardiologist today. I have known this gentleman for quite some time. He treated John and me for years. He also worked with John and admired him a great deal.
For that I am grateful.
But I am not grateful for feeling like I have to defend how I feel every time I see him.
He criticized me [in a medically concerned way] for still feeling sad.
As if there is some time limit on how I should feel.
Telling me I should not be wasting my life. That I should at some point be receptive to having another "companion".
He quoted a letter to me that Abraham Lincoln wrote to the daughter of a soldier killed in battle in which Lincoln told the little girl that she should not believe that she will never be happy again.
Excuse me?
How does that compare with losing my soul mate? The love of my life?
The man with whom I planned on growing old with? The man I loved beyond all measure? Who loved me the same way? That I miss with every cell of my being every single day?
Are you f-ing kidding me?
I am so sick and tired of people who think they know it all.
Yes, I know he meant well and he is thinking of the quality of the rest of my life but how about starting with at least acknowledging that I am going through a tough time. That I have had to add other tough times on top of it [losing John's Mom, losing my girls]?
Then maybe we can talk.
Don't go right to telling me how I am wrong to still be sad.
All that does is tell me I can no longer be honest with you.
From now on I will paste a silly smile on my face and lie, lie, lie.
Yes, everything is fine. I'm feeling very good, thank you.
I'm even dating again.
Everything is just peachy. Couldn't be better.

Idiots.
All of them.
Idiots.

John's car

I am donating John's car to the Arizona Humane Society. It will be auctioned off and the proceeds given to the animals. I know John will be happy with this but it's hard to let his car go.

They came for it this morning.

The paperwork was ready.

I had emptied out the car over the weekend and I took some pictures of it.

I knew this was going to bother me but I am a little surprised by how much.

It's going to be so strange to not see it there in the garage.

I think on some level I was able to fool my heart by seeing it there. I could pretend John was still here because his car was in the garage.And I could sit in the place he sat and drive his car and feel closer to him.

Now I have no cars that he ever drove.

John and our dog Willie in John's MG

John and his Mercedes coupe

Cars and John were synonymous. He always had a car he was working on so he always had more than one car around all the time, one he was driving and one he was playing with. And then of course there would be the car that I drove. Sometimes that would be an antique too like the old Mercedes sedan he bought me one year.

Our first date was in an old Plymouth 1939 that he was restoring that he lovingly called Big Mother. When I met John he was driving an antique Austin Healy. During our life together he bought and restored and sold many antique cars. They were his passion.

Now for the first time since 1980 there will be one car, just mine.

I remember teasing John about this car when he bought it because it was so old and not the prettiest. I wanted him to get something nicer.

He said it was serviceable for work and that's all he wanted. And it was a good car, a Toyota.

He also said it was probably the last car he was ever going to buy for himself.

I laughed at him and said that was ridiculous, that it was unreal to believe that in the next 20 years or so he was never going to get another car.

How did he know?
I am so sad and heartbroken.