*** Posted on Jan 10, 2021 ***  In 1986, I was 33 and a half. What was happening then? 1986 - The absolute, darkest, scariest, most painful time of my life. 1986. Feb. 19, 1986 is the day my Herbie died. He looked at me, right into my eyes, as he left this world. We were all there - Daddy, Mummy, Liz, Brigitte, Bernie, Ed, Richard, Brian and me - holding his hands, surrounding the hospital bed in the living room, holding our collective breath. His breathing slowed - then stopped - then started again. Over and over, the same pattern, for several hours. And then finally - no more inhalations,. He was gone. Gone, gone, gone. And we were left. Those first few weeks after his death are a blur. People came, flowers  and food arrived - but I went nowhere.I could not bring myself to even step outside - outside where no one knew of our tragedy - no one knew the world had changed for good and there was no possibility to understand anything ever again. Somehow a memorial happened. Someho...