I returned home from Chicago a couple of days ago. My house was so still and quiet. I went outside and walked through fallen leaves. The colors are finally showing.

And my heart still hurts because Billy isn’t here. I have to remind myself how terrible he felt at the end and how free he is now from suffering. Why does it have to be this way, though? Why?

Fall makes me sad. The days are shorter and winter is tapping his foot, looking at his watch, anxious to get his show on the road.