This is how I felt when I went to the house in Rocky. I saw Frith sitting at his desk, studying or playing video games; I saw him in the kitchen making his tasty BBQ sauce, I saw him on the deck having a beer with his friends; I saw him in the Lego room building something awesome with the kids; I saw him in our bedroom sleeping soundly.

He was everywhere, but he wasn’t there.

I feel that way every day when I look at the kids. When I see him in them. I feel that way when I pick up our Contigo water bottles, when I take the kids in the Croozer bike trailer/pram, when I see photos of him everywhere.

He’s everywhere, but he’s not here.

And it’s how I felt when I spent over three hours in ED tonight. (I slipped down my friend’s stairs just after it had started raining and it was wet and I was wearing thongs and I was holding Darby and my forearm took the full force of the blow. And my butt. I’m fine by the way, and so is Darby.) I could see him in the Doctor who made the child next to me feel at ease; I could see him in the Doctor having a joke with the nurses; I could feel his calming presence in the room where a patient had to have her should put back into place after a dislocation. I could see him typing up notes and scrolling through test results in the middle of the chaos of Emergency.

When I got the good news that there was no fracture, I could hear him in my head saying “it’s really hard to break that bone, honey, so it’s probably just a bruise.” It’s what he would have said. I’d put money on it. I would have insisted that I get an x-ray, and can just see the look on his face when I told him he was right.

He’s everywhere, but he’s not here. And it’s a hard reality to face. And I thank God every single day that I don’t have to face that reality alone.