I just re-read all the mass emails we sent out during the disasters of 2011-2012, then read the blog posts on the other blog. I have no idea why, but I did.
We really are tough fighters, aren't we? You fought your battle to live - fought as hard as you could, stubbornly, while being so kind and cheerful about it. I fought the battle to get you the best treatment to be had, and occasionally fought with you to help you keep fighting. I don't know how we held on for so long. I suppose there wasn't any choice. When the need is there, you do whatever it takes for as long as it takes.
We loved - and still love - each other so much. I know you fought so hard to live because you didn't want to leave me here. But for the last few days, you were ready to go. And I was ready to release you, seeing that the radiation damage was well past the point of no return. I did beg you to take me with you, but I know that choice wasn't yours to make.
Besides dealing with losing you, I've also had to recover from those three months. I gave it everything I had - and sometimes it seemed like more than I had. Recovery is physical and emotional; the emotional healing takes longer. I'm still processing all of it, and wish I could talk to you about it, especially about all that happened after you were trached and couldn't talk. But that time will come.
For now, I'm going to bed with a heavy heart and a still-processing head. I will put my hand in the dip in the mattress, and cry. Not because you're in Heaven, but because I'm still parted from you.
I love you with all of my heart,
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