Day 5

On the last day of the road trip, little sweetheart. It’s a mini version of something I’ve always wanted to do. I know it wouldn’t be your cup of tea - how you hated being in the car! Ha! But there have been lots of stops, pulling over and talking in the amazing vistas of sea and sky and mountains. We’ve taken lots of pictures and Sylvia has been filming as I’ve driven the winding mountain roads. I think we’ll certainly find some of the footage in future videos for both bands.

Last night we stayed in Carmel. We didn’t book the last night until we were already on the trip halfway down the coast. I was avoiding Carmel, to be honest, little sweetheart. Not because it isn’t lovely but because I spent such wonderful times there with you that I thought it would hurt far too much. I’ll tell you why, even though I know you already know. You know everything.

After your tragic passing, I still had over a week left before my originally scheduled flight home. It was less expensive to rent a car and stay in California than to change my ticket and go home and I couldn’t think what to do with myself anyway. I thought maybe I’d drive down to LA and see some friends, taking a trip along Highway One, just like this one Sylvia and I have finally done to Santa Barbara and back.

My first stop was Carmel, where you and I had spent such wonderful times. I had this idea that I would find your spirit, newly freed of your body, lingering there. That I would find you. But what I mostly found was unendurable pain. I walked the little streets where I had held your hand, just months before, and wept. I tried to go down to the beach where I had held you in my arms but I limped to a tree and hid there, too broken to make it to the water. I went back to the hotel room I’d checked into an hour earlier and collapsed on the floor in tears, trying to get someone, anyone, on the phone. A friend, one of my agents in New York, told me to get out of there. Just check back out, get in the rental car and drive back to Marin where I’d been staying with Chris and Sheri.

And that’s what I did. For a long long time, for years, I was afraid any travel would be exactly like this - that if it was a place you and I had been, it would crush me, and if it was a place that we hadn’t, I would miss you so achingly I would break in two. This morning, little sweetheart, I don’t feel that way - I feel you with me, with us, instead, finally.

We’ve been visiting some of the Missions along the way. I didn’t even realize Carmel had one of them. It turned out to be, perhaps, our favorite. Just before we went inside, locking the car, I looked down at my phone. It was exactly 11:11am. Angel time. How well I knew you were right there.

Later, we walked down to the beach. I went to the other side of that tree where I wept before and took off my shoes and headed down to the water’s edge. I went a long way down the beach. Sylvia had stayed behind just watching me as I prayed and spoke to you. She took the most amazing picture of the moment.

A year ago, for 10 minutes, my heart stopped. In that strange place between worlds I felt the efforts of you, little sweetheart, and angels on both sides of the divide turn me back, return me to earth. I still feel so devastatingly sad sometimes, little sweetheart, but I know there must be a reason I remain. Please help and guide me, as I know you’ve done today.

I love you with all my heart and soul. Forever. Forever.