It just occurred to me that the first time I met my husband in person, the first time I ever saw him and talked to him, we decided to go to Chipotle for our dinner.
On the day he passed, that afternoon, a few hours before the world ended, he had me run out to get carry out from Chipotle.
I don't know why that suddenly struck me... that this will now forever be associated with the first and last days that he was physically a part of my life.
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