I had dinner with a friend and her husband tonight, along with their adorable baby, who I think of in my head as my adopted niece, partly because Ed isn’t around and will never give me any nephews and nieces, and also partly because my cousins and I are not really close enough for me to warrant spoiling their kids. We sat at the table, discussing life, death, and everything in between.

I told them that it doesn’t feel like Ed really passed; it feels like he is still around. When I am in our family’s house, it’s like he’s sitting at the table with me or in the other room, or just about to get home from work or karate or picking up some produce. My friend’s husband said, it’s because he still is there. Perhaps the way that we define “existence” is in the physical form, but who is to say that he doesn’t still exist? He is living in another way.

Maybe I feel him even more strongly now because he is no longer of the form that you and I know, but he has entered another type of existence where I can feel him even deeper, and he can feel me more, as well. And maybe because of this, I feel even closer to him, almost like we are always together because in mind, we really are connected.

Maybe all of the above is true. But either way, I still can’t help but miss him in this flesh and blood form of which I am aware. Maybe my missing him is selfish because he has left a life of pain and suffering and entered a cosmos of sorts where suffering ceases to exist. If I genuinely love him, I can’t possibly want him to suffer anymore. I need to keep reminding myself that he is in a happier place and form of existence than before. Otherwise, I will never truly find peace.

It’s my first Sunday night by myself. I can’t even remember the last time I have spent a Sunday night alone. Chris left this afternoon for a work trip, and so I am left to my own devices to keep myself entertained. I made an Indian dal (lentil) dish, roasted brussel sprouts with shallots and balsamic vinegar, and Korean purple rice. I worked on Valentine’s Day cards even though I don’t know who I am giving these to (I’m not feeling very generous this year). I did some cleaning and reorganizing, and also caught up on some personal e-mail. I also watched a movie a friend recommended that I didn’t like. I’m going to finish reading The English Patient tonight and maybe catch up on The Economist.

It’s weird to think of simple things like Sunday nights with your spouse. Chris and I just spend every Sunday night at home for the most part and have a homemade meal. We listen to his podcast. He might do laundry. But now that he is not here, I find myself feeling very strange because this is not what I am used to. I am in the home we share, but I feel slightly out of my element. This is what it’s like to miss your spouse when you know you won’t be going to bed together, and is a reminder to not take people for granted, not that I was doing that.

Today marks the new lunar year, the year of the horse. 新年快樂! I’ve already made taro cake (wu tou gao) in anticipation of the new year, and this weekend, I am planning to make nian gao, or New Year’s cake, to continue the celebration. There’s nothing better for Chinese New Year than enjoying all the traditional foods that my grandma used to make to ring in the new year.

I started reading about Chinese astrology and what is supposed to characterize each birth year, as well as love compatibility. I am an Ox (a lot of people mistakenly think I am a Tiger because of my birth year, but since I am a January baby, I am technically at the tail end of the year of the Ox on the lunar calendar). Chris is a Rooster, and as luck would have it, the Ox and the Rooster are actually a ‘strong match.’ We are supposed to have similar temperaments and values in life, as well as have complementary differences. According to the astrology site I was reading, the Rooster needs the “calm” that the Ox provides to have a harmonious home and love life. That’s definitely true of us.

I don’t normally care at all about “luck” or superstitions or astrology, but it is nice to read these things and see that there are forces out there that “approve” of my choices, and that the future looks auspicious for us together. It makes me smile.

Someone in my Facebook feed shared this article today that reminded me of Ed. It’s called “9 Ways Brothers Protect their Sisters.” This article doesn’t really paint Ed as the brother he was to me fully, but there are some elements that definitely resemble him.

He always gave his opinion on what I was wearing – “Isn’t that a little short?” or “That color looks awful on you!” and “I need to buy you new clothes.” He actually did buy me some new clothes at one point while working at Macy’s. He didn’t like that I just wore those free over-sized volunteer shirts I got from events where I worked for free, or those shirts that people gave as generic souvenirs when coming back from vacation; he said I needed to have comfortable, good looking pajamas that I actually liked to wear and sleep in. So he got me two sets that I actually really like to this day. I still have and wear three of those pieces. Even when they get worn out, I’m still never going to get rid of them.

He also wanted to assert his older brother-ness on me by giving me advice on things like how it’s against God to have sex before marriage (sorry, Ed), and how girls’ minds work one way while guys’ minds work in a completely different way, so I shouldn’t just think that because I may like a guy, he would feel the exact same way about me. Even though I would roll my eyes at him or tell him I knew what I was doing at the time, I actually remember a lot of these conversations fondly now and smile thinking about them. I need to hold onto these memories before they may slip away. I can’t believe it’s been over six months now.

Chris and I have spent the last day organizing our lives – our cabinets, our files, my clothes, our backup drives and digital photos. It’s been an exhausting process, but now, it’s finally done. Now, I can use some of that organizing for the scrapbook I will be putting together that will showcase our life together.

One thing of many that Chris and I share is that we are both very goal-driven. Just for 2014, we spent a weekend working on goals, and not just a list of five or ten, but goals by category (some examples are self-improvement, work, education, books to read, volunteering/charity, New York activities, travel priorities, photography). It’s crazy to revisit this list, which we will be doing at least once a month on our own and together, but it’s one way that we motivate each other to be better people and to be true to our words, and ultimately to ourselves.

Last night, I celebrated my birthday with Chris and five good friends at Banc in Murray Hill. A friend who came initially gave me a hard time about the place I chose, but I insisted that my only criteria were a) guaranteed table where everyone had a seat and b) reasonably priced drinks. Our group will create its own ambiance, and I didn’t need a super swanky place to have a good time.

It was a really fun night, and a night where I could actually say that everyone seemed to get along despite coming from different parts of my life, and it made me really happy to see it. All night, all I could think was how grateful I was to have these people in my life, after all these years and after all the drama that we’ve been through together. I’m happy that I can speak loudly, laugh hysterically, swear, hate on women (and men), and do whatever it is that I do, and still at the end of the day, be loved by all these people. I’m a really lucky person.

I think that most kids want to think one day, when they get married, buy their first (or second or third) home, have kids, and go through other various stages of their adult life that they hope and envision their parents will be there for them. They may be separated by distance, but the general dream I think we all have is that they will be alive and well and here to be happy and proud of us. This is how I’ve always imagined things happening and what I do genuinely want.

The scary thing, though, is that we can’t always control for everything that happens in life. So in the back of my own mind, I always feel a little scared every now and then that by the time I can do any of these things that it may be too late. And sadly, I’ve thought about it a lot more since Ed left us last summer. My dad and I were having a pretty frank discussion tonight about planning for the future, and I was trying to explain to him that I am grateful for his and my mom’s support throughout my childhood, for paying for my college education, for continuing to provide for me in different ways even since I started working, but I definitely do not want him skimping out on his own life and enjoyment now, thinking that he needs to provide for me when the day comes when he may no longer be here. “Well, Yvonne, remember, you can use that money towards a down payment on a house.” He reminded me how expensive it is to buy a house now in a major metropolitan area, and how much more expensive it is than when he was my age. DAD! I scolded him. “I’m not depending on your leaving this world for me to do that! And by the way, you’re not going anywhere. You are going to be here when I pay for my own down payment with my own money and buy a house, so don’t talk like that!”

I could immediately feel my eyes water a bit when I said this. My dad always feels like he has to provide for all of us forever until we die; he felt this way about Ed, too, without ever telling him. I told Ed, though. I could tell Ed felt some guilt when he heard this. I guess that’s just my dad’s masculine side coming out – his need to be a provider. He hasn’t always been the best with words, but in actions, that’s how he shows his love.