Email by B.R.
I was called one afternoon. It’s one of those phone calls you hope to never get. The kind of call that doesn’t sink in at that moment. I was told my husband had passed away. I didn’t shed a tear; instead I called everyone to tell them the bad news. They all comforted me with their kind words and I tried to think of what all had to be done
By evening as everything was winding down it finally dawned on me. I lost the love of my life. I will never see him again. I can’t touch him, I can’t joke with him in the morning, I can’t stare deeply into his eyes as we hold each other. I collapsed on the bed. There weren’t enough tears to cry. My rock, my stability, my world has ended and will never be the same, again.
I held his shirt he wore yesterday and cried into the last aroma he left on earth. It felt like hours had gone by but I couldn’t function, I couldn’t get up. I cried so much my face was raw, I had no tears left. Staring into a haze from swollen eyes, my hair was pulled back. I heard his gentle words whisper over the quiet, “Everything is O.K. I’ll see you soon” I whispered back, “Good-bye my love”.