She died peacefully during the last week of August.
Through the years, all fifteen of them, she was pretty much the most consistent thing in my life. She taught me how to take care of someone. She offered unconditional love, which I gave back to her as much as humanly possible.
September marked the end of the hardest year of my life. The fact that she died the last week of August is not something that is lost on me. True, losing her was very much part of that dark year. But the fact that she saw me through the entire year, all fifty-two weeks, goes to show her ability to be there for me when I needed her most.
So, I will probably continue to step over the empty spot in my kitchen where she used to lay. Not because I'm crazy, but because if I step into the void that she left behind I just might fall in.