Friday nights are meant for date nights, for husbands and wives to go out and share some special quality time together.  Tonight I went to Walmart - the most romantic place one can imagine, right?  Hardly, especially if you are shopping alone.  Now I'm like he was - hurry up and get what you need and we're out of here.  Then go walk around Lowe's 6 times.  Anything to keep from being alone at the house, but it's all boring; it's all lonely.  I ask myself, "Where is home?"  Home is where your heart is; home is where your honey is; but this has been taken from me and from all of us.  I am like the penguin. If a penguin loses its mate, it barely survives.  Tomorrow it's more of the same, and Sundays are worse.  I miss hearing his phone ring with the ringtone of a train whistle - and that silly Bluetooth he always wore on his head. The jingle of his keys.  I miss seeing the truck pull into the driveway in the evenings.  I really don't feel that he is still with me, as many say they do.  I used to have this "left behind" feeling whenever he wouldn't wait for me.  Maybe it was a premonition of what I now face.  Somehow I think he could have kept himself alive, taken more precautions, etc.  I will get through the holidays somehow, some way, but I search for something or someone to fill the emptiness, the void.  Going to bed at night seems to be a temporary escape from the reality of singleness, of solitary.  To make it through the winter will be another milestone.  They say grief is a season, that we won't stay in this horrid place forever.  I don't know.  Right now I don't see any light at the end of the tunnel.