BEN
It's a bloody awful day when Celine Dion becomes the soundtrack to your life. I'm standing in line at the supermarket, trying to avoid eye contact with those dreadful gossip magazines, when that blasted song starts blaring through the speakers. "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" – the irony isn't lost on me.
"There were moments of gold and there were flashes of light... there were things I'd never do again, but then, they'd always seemed right..."
The song takes me back to a time I'd rather forget, when Meredith was still alive. Meredith would sing these lyrics delightfully off-key while cooking or washing the dishes. The memory grips me like a vise, refusing to let go. I recall the way her laughter filled a room and how she always seemed to make everything brighter. But I can't think
