His direct gaze no nonsense, full of grace and care and love for me, for life itself - for every moment of life lived. Even in the black and white you can sense the aquamarine of his blue eyes. That countenance so sure, so confident, so self assured, raw and true proud and in pain at losing life but seeing life for the fullness of its 62 years. No regrets, only graceful acknowledgment.
That sunny day at Spanish Banks before we found out about the cancer was joyous, sublime and our step across the threshold of before and after.
When I lived in Greece with Peter in the l980s, his neighbour Vassiliky was wary of me. She was in her 80s, I was in my 30s, and Peter was in his 50s. As she looked me up and down she was definitely skeptical: dyspistos.