Cemeteries and Roses

Hi Michael,

For the first time today, Tru asked to go to the cemetery to see you. We went and bought some roses (red for me, pink for Tru).He asked if we would ride in the limousine to go there.  He wanted to know where all the people were? Why wasn't everyone else visiting you today?


 We walked around and looked at headstones and memorial benches and Tru "sat on Popi's lap". I just kept looking at the dates on the headstones and thinking "oh, she only had to wait a year", "oh, he waited 12 years to join his wife","that couple went together". And I wonder how long it will be before I can be with you again? And you know what? It really stinks that I have to go to a cemetery to see my husband. It just really, really stinks.


It just breaks my heart to go to the cemetery.  I HATE that you are there!  I want to dig myself down to you, to lay in your arms again.  I showed Tru the spot where I will be buried some day and he wants to be buried on the other side of you.  A four-almost 5 year old little boy shouldn't have to worry about that sort of thing. He shouldn't even be thinking about it.


Today he told me that he wants to die before me so that he can help you build our mansion and get it all ready for me to get there.  I know he doesn't realize what he's saying, but Baby, please watch over our little guy because it just scares me so badly that I could lose you both.


  He wanted to know why you didn't have a grave (a tombstone) like the others.  I told him that you will have a very special one, but it takes a long time to get it made.  Before we left, he pushed the stems of the roses into the dirt so that they would stand up on your grave.  I said "you know what Popi would say?" he asked "what", so I did my best Popi imitation and said "he'd say, Thank you little guy".  Tru kind of smiled at that and it just made me miss you even more.


Saturdays are hard.  It's been 9 weeks today.  Nine weeks ago this morning, it started out to be a wonderful day, by the end of the day (9 weeks ago to the hour) I was coming home from the hospital a widow.  And so began the worst days of my life.  


I would give almost anything to talk to you one more time, to say "goodbye".  I would give almost anything to have you hold me one last time, to hear your laugh, to see you play with Tru.  I would give almost anything to crawl into our bed and scoot next to you to "spoon", to put my left hand on your stomach and my right hand on your head and sigh with contentment like I used to do every night.  To say "I love you, husband" one last time before I close my eyes.  I would give anything to go back 9 1/2 weeks and make the worst day never happen.
Baby, how do I live without you?