On July 30th I got a call from the funeral home, Genes ashes were ready. I wanted to get his ashes back but I wasn’t ready for this wave of emotion. I drove to Lancaster to pick him up, the dog and I, we do everything together these days. I pulled up and couldn’t go in, I just sat there and cried for a while. My heart is broken and knowing that they were going to hand me my husband back in a small box was overwhelming. I finally found the strength to walk in there. I waited a few minutes and they brought him out, with the death certificate and his thumb prints, that I had asked for.

I was glad to finally be bringing him home but so sad at the same time. My heart breaks daily, at night when I go to sleep alone, and even more so every morning when I wake to realize once again that this is real.

Fuck, reality sucks and this pain is overwhelming. I understand why everyone keeps telling me to breath.