Warmth

(Day Five) Entry:  May 14, 2017

The last time I touched your cheek, before they asked me to leave the bedroom and took you away, I felt the cold set in.

The heat had already left your body.

We brought you home today, your remains that is. I rub the box as if you feel my touch. I know you are not really there, but in reality, you are. It comforts the deep longing to have you near.

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I look at the warmth of the fireplace insert as I watch TV, sitting in the chair next to the one you used to reside. The insert you gave me on our last anniversary together was to replace the one the former homeowner pleaded to keep, as it was a remembrance of her dead husband.

I ache so deeply. Last night I cried uncontrollably as I lay on the bed. It may have been the three glasses of wine that released the pent-up emotional toll underneath. I don’t know.

I miss your touch.

Everything reminds me of you. Your loud clap, that would last seconds after the last one clapping, would cause my head to cower in slight embarrassment. This morning I longed to be brought head-low by your performance. Instead my head bends at the grief of your passing.

Two weeks, plus one day. When will I stop counting the days past and instead look forward to the days in front of me? And further still, to the day when I see your face in front of mine, and I slowly reach out and touch the warmth of your cheek?

My husband and best friend, Bill Barone, passed away from a long fight against cancer on April 29, 2017, at precisely 4:29am. The disease temporarily won out here on this planet, but since his ultimate residence is in Heaven, I am certain he won out.  These writings are a year-long commitment to find my way out of the darkness from his departure. 
Each entry is marked with a day and a date.  The first entry was on May 9, 2017. 
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