Just a photo in a frame.
Is all I see today
But when I close my eyes
A million memories come my way.

Sometimes when grief is oh so deep
And there’s no relief from sorrow,
When your heartbreak is so new
And there‘s no hope for tomorrow.

I move to the side of the bed and place my feet under me. My knees collapse and I end up face down on the carpet. I crawl to the bathroom not five feet away and throw up in the toilet. Not a pretty picture.

I have two widowed close friends but the rest of my friends are couples. What is my new role with them or is that gone too? I understand being “widowed” but I don’t want to accept the term “widow”… There is no future in the term “widow” and I have to believe in a future.

The racking sobs stopped and insidiously guilt showed its nasty head. There were so many things I should have done. So many things I shouldn’t have done. How could I ever forgive myself?

I sit quietly and gaze around at my little house … everything is exactly as I had planned it and it pleases me.

Will I still cry as time goes by
Will my heart never heal?

I look across the street and see my neighbour’s fir tree. It has been there for years guarding the front entry. The top is laden with cones … it has born much fruit. Its branches spread wide and it is a haven for the small birds that visit there. A terrible wind storm attacked the tree one day.

“Mom, come down for Christmas, we want you here,” entreats my oldest daughter. “Stay for the wedding. It would mean so much to Mike.”

So I start something new … travelling alone.

‘Till you have cried the whole night through
And awakened still to sorrow
Until your heart is broken in two
And only pain awaits tomorrow.

“You may share these with others, but only those who have walked this path will understand fully what you have written.”

I glance at the clock above my husband’s hospital bed. It is 12:30 Sunday morning and the spirit of the one I loved best has just slipped into another world.

We try to go to church but Harry and I realize that this will be the last time. We barely make it back to the car. The handwriting is on the wall.

Well, finally some good news. Harry is responding to the chemo positively so they will continue.

We feel that although radiation has some benefits, the trips down to Edmonton and back are just costing us too much health-wise. Perhaps medication is the best alternative.

Well … so much has happened … all these problems here with our new unit have caused us so much grief that Harry says “sell” but I am not sure if we can take another move. I have left it in God’s hands. Some day we will look back and understand the “why’s” of all these recent upsets … I know we are not forsaken but oh, I feel so fragile!

We were down to Edmonton last week. Saw a new doctor who believes Harry’s cancer in his neck is the same as in his chest. He did mention a new experimental drug out in Toronto that might have some effect but it is hard on the heart and Harry has already had one heart attack.

Yes, I have a large gallstone which certainly explains a lot of symptoms I have been having the past few years. My other surgery is slowly healing.

What a week is has been! My sister Mary and her daughter are here as well as Carla and Wally. We finally had the big wedding we missed 50 years ago.