The dark mark on the fence marks The Spot.
For a while now, I have been able to get through every day with only missing Greg and not get caught up in HOW he died.
But then up until recently, I avoided most of the details on the HOW and limited myself to knowing the barest facts of the accident: Greg was the passenger; neither speed nor reckless driving was a factor; and he died instantly.
But.....
On Sunday, through a cruel twist of fate and an unholy bridge closure which meant I had find an alternative way home.
But while "following my nose" along half-remembered routes from a former job and a former abode, I was more intent on avoiding the aforementioned unholy traffic nightmare on the "closed for maintenance" freeway and so the fact that I was fast approaching The Bad Place snuck up on me.
As I stopped at the lights at the top of the hill (just around the bend at the top of the picture), I looked ahead and realised what lay 250m in front of me.
Thankfully the traffic was light and I turned down a side street and avoided it.
I have successfully managed to avoid being anywhere near The Bad Place ever since the accident. Its not hard - it is half-way across town and on a road that I rarely ever used anyway.
But coming so close has really shaken me to the core .... but it is done: I've now driven along the the road that Greg and J drove along seconds before they died.
Another first out of the way.
....and so I now process this next bit if grief that has been far too hard to even think about up until now.
I will be stronger for it.
Little steps.
