I awoke to howls and cries. I huried out of bed, following the sound of what I thought was Dave's tears. This remains the most fearful moment of my life, afraid to ask Dave, what happened? "Grace is gone. She is dead." Do you want me to stay here with you? "I don't care."

I do not fell bad I was slightly relieved in my drozy state it was not Ray, and then I relized Dave would not be crying in our living room if it was Ray. No that would be terrorizing, best not to bring on pain by dwelling on it. I grabed my sweater and went outside to find Ray, but she walked inside. She was sober. I went out to the body tucked under cavas on our truckbed.

She was smaller than I remember. And so very still.

I wish I had all those poetic words for her this morning.

So quick is death.

Even for those who have warning, death rides swift and surefooted upon the very wind.