‘Dear Boi. I love you because’
WEDNESDAY, December 23 – It only gets worse. Her presence is palpable in every nook and cranny, or rather, her visible and tangible absence.
In my toilet case I find a folded piece of paper: it is yellowed and the ink has run. It dates from the fall of 2005 and it was written on the stationary of the Hilton in Brighton, England, where, on a whim, we spent a weekend, the four of us.
Jenn had left it next to my toothbrush and accessories, and since then this precious note had accompanied me on all my many trips. ‘Dear Boi. I love you because you know when it is time to take a break. xxx Jenn.’
Oh, Jenn.
Diary of a Widower 