I don’t want to imagine a world that he isn’t part of – not at all – but there is no world that they both are alive in, and no way my mind can accommodate a version of that world, even imaginary. So, if I imagine her here, I imagine him not. And it’s impossible not to wonder at times like these. Mundane, silly times where I’m frustrated that we can’t agree and my mind slips off into that world-that-might-have-been. And more serious times, birthdays, milestones, all the rest. What would it have been like if she were here? Then he wouldn’t be.