From a letter I sent to a friend in March, two months after losing Pete:

The air is very dry here in our New York apartment, and builds static charges easily. I give myself (and Amy, and the cats) little static shocks every day by accident. And that’s how this feels – I’ll just be reaching for some everyday fact or memory and zap, oh yeah, I first learned this from Pete, who is dead now. That’s how it feels. I’m not sad but I’m shocked, micro-shocked, over and over, all day every day since January.