Seven days

It's been seven days since you passed. I tried to keep myself busy with work this afternoon, to distract me from feeling the moment. It didn't work. I looked at my watch at exactly 250pm, the last time I remember seeing the clock as your struggled for your last breath.
I closed my eyes and I could once again hear your final words to me "I love my girls". You were so weak, gasping for breath but your words were as clear as they had every been.
I know most people go through moments in their marriage where they doubt how their spouse feels. Where a fight gets out of hand and words are spoken that hurt. I'm so lucky that in the nine years we were togeher I never had one of those moments. Never did a second pass that I doubted your love for me.

I know you continue to rescue me. Today when I pulled into the funeral home to pick up your death certificates and Kate started to cry because she didn't want to go in, your song came on the radio.

Kate stopped crying and we both quietly sat and listened to the song. We climbed out of the car, Kate wrapped her arms around my neck and we both said "I love you".
Her good mood continued as we spent the next two hours at the social security office. She never cried, yelled or got out of hand and I never lost my patience.

We continue to move forward slowly, but it's not without you. We'll never be without you.

Always,
B.