Missing My Wife [I Have a Blog]
My wife wanted to be cremated. Sometimes I wish she had a spot in the cemetery, somewhere I could go to sit and talk to her. I made a memorial deep in the woods for her. I occasionally go there, but it's just not the same. Even though she isn't there, I'm still careful about what I tell her. She would be devastated by what's going on right now.
My wife was a staunch conservative, and I'm the complete opposite. We had a wonderful relationship, because it was founded on love and respect. I have very little faith that I'll ever have that again. True love comes once in a lifetime, if even that. She was my true love. Tomorrow, I'm going to visit her in the woods again. Truthfully, I don't feel her there. I don't feel her anywhere, and it's a pain that I can't describe. I'm forgetting how she was before the cancer. All I can seem to remember are the surgeries, the trips to the cancer center, the fear I felt on a daily basis, and constantly checking to see if she was still breathing. She couldn't speak, open her eyes, or respond in any way. I doubt she could hear or understand anything I said to her during that time. I was holding her hand when she stopped breathing. I'm starting to forget the touch of her hand, too.
My wife was a staunch conservative, and I'm the complete opposite. We had a wonderful relationship, because it was founded on love and respect. I have very little faith that I'll ever have that again. True love comes once in a lifetime, if even that. She was my true love. Tomorrow, I'm going to visit her in the woods again. Truthfully, I don't feel her there. I don't feel her anywhere, and it's a pain that I can't describe. I'm forgetting how she was before the cancer. All I can seem to remember are the surgeries, the trips to the cancer center, the fear I felt on a daily basis, and constantly checking to see if she was still breathing. She couldn't speak, open her eyes, or respond in any way. I doubt she could hear or understand anything I said to her during that time. I was holding her hand when she stopped breathing. I'm starting to forget the touch of her hand, too.
31-35, M
