Just...today

If I miss you this bad and feel so lonely in the home of those (still living) that I love most, imagine how bad it gets when I'm by myself at Kathrinstadt sometimes.

TJ hit the nail right on the head: I want the hurt to stop, but the hurt is a product of and testament to the love shared with the person lost.

But Love, I know you wouldn't want me to hurt this much. Nor would I you, were our roles reversed. But both of us know that, because of the nature of our love, such hurt is unavoidable. It's how we bear ourselves through it that matters and makes the difference. And I am trying to keep my head up and keep going just as you would want and expect.

I often ask the question, why you and not me? Is it because you wouldn't be able to be as strong as I am? I always felt you were the far stronger of the two of us (not to mention the more experienced, innovative, determined, enterprising, and so on), but then you used to say things about how you'd climb into a bittle or end it if you lost me. And I told you I would never want that for you and that I would need for you to carry on for me, and for those here on earth who still love you. So that's what I'm trying to do. I do think the more valuable of us was taken, and that's one of the reasons it seems so unfair (besides the obvious).

Grief feels too much like a chronic and debilitating illness. Or a disabling injury. Or anything else that takes away one's ability to feel happy, healthy, and whole. And the grieving walk among the non-grieving and have to feel different and see all that we're missing, and that doesn't help matters.

I asked Michael the other night whether he thought you chose to go in order to give me a financial advantage. And he insists that, no, you didn't. He's sure that you wanted to stay but just weren't able to because your body was no longer viable. I really hope you didn't give up because you thought it would make things better for me. That would make me angry. Not at you, just...angry. Because I would trade every cent and speck of material security just to have you back. I wouldn't think twice if I were given that chance. Michael insists that you would have given anything to be able to stay with me and the boys, but that you had no other choice.

I have enjoyed and am grateful for the dreams I've had of you. I wonder what to make of last night's. I hope what you said to me in the dream, and the enthusiasm of your reaction, reflects what you'd truly feel (now, not before) about the matter.

It goes without saying, but I miss you, Dear Heart. And I love you beyond words.

I pray that one day, not too long from now, telling you "I love you" will bring a smile to my lips and inspiration to my heart instead of just tears to my eyes and pangs of emptiness.

I love you desperately, Sweetest. And I always will, just as strong as ever.