Today is my late husband’s birthday. Last year, we had hoped for another birthday, one we could celebrate in Brazil. He had wanted to recover and spend his next significant day at the Copacabana Palace, watch a show at “Beco das Garrafas,” and enjoy a beer at the “calçadão de Copacabana.”.
His birthdays were typically spent here in Sacramento, and I endeavored to make these days special for him: a pleasant dinner after work and a cake from the (now also defunct) local Austrian bakery, Konditorei. However, Jeffrey wasn’t particularly fond of his birthday, holidays, or any special day. He found the most joy when he could play his guitar skillfully, and these special occasions often interfered with this contentment, as people attempted to make him happy through other means.
Today, on August 26, 2023, I will be dining alone in an empty house where the strumming of guitars is now absent. The fate of survivors. It’s a moment to reflect on all that has transformed in my life: first, when Jeffrey became a part of it, and then again when he departed. I contemplate those who welcomed baby Jeffrey into this world 71 years ago, all of whom have also passed away. Amidst these thoughts, I hold gratitude for the time I had with him.
Below a composite photo of Jeffrey and a page of one of his fake books, also left behind.
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Wall Art landscapes and miscellaneous
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It is all about the light 
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