When I awoke this morning, I wondered where Julie could be, especially since I’m always the first one up.
After a couple of minutes, I realized that Julie died over eight years ago.
These days, that kind of thing only happens once every three or four months.
Still, it’s a disorienting experience and tends to put me off kilter for a while.
Julie Showalter was my much-beloved, fiercely smart, extraordinarily sexy wife and a prize-winning writer, who died in 1999 from cancer diagnosed the week of our wedding nearly 20 years earlier. There are many other posts about her and her writing in this blog. For information, see Julie Showalter FAQ