My dear high-school girlfriend, Sandy Whye, was my first fan and biggest supporter.  We were just broken kids, and our love was unable to overcome the wounds we carried with us into that relationship.  But the fondness and love remained, and we stayed in touch through the decades.

Today is the first anniversary of her sudden and unexpected death.

I was sad yesterday, and I woke up this morning kind of flat and washed out,.  Not devastated as I was when I first heard of her passing 12 months ago, and I figured this muted grayness was going to be the extent of my reaction to the date.  But as the workday went on, it felt like a cold winter day in my head and grief slowly welled up in my heart before spilling out of my eyes.

Then I learned I advanced to the quarter-finals in a playwriting contest. There were over 1000 thousand entries and looks as if there are about 250 other quarter-finalists (including, I swear, Shia LeBeouf).

That was bittersweet…it’s news of the sort that would have been cause for an immediate phone call to Sandy. She was always so thrilled for my small successes.

But it’s one phone call I won’t be making today.