Sunday was a landmark of sorts, and it passed without me realizing it.
That, I suppose, was most significant at all. Sunday was the four-month anniversary of my surgery.
At some point, I’d stopped counting the days since my brain surgery, and then the weeks, and now, it seems, the months. Rand had left town the day before, so I mostly sat around, working on our Halloween costumes, and yelling at the football game that was playing on the T.V. in a vain attempt to pretend that he was still home.
It almost worked. Turns out, I’m nearly as adept at taunting Tony Romo as my husband is.