I have cried every. single. day.
I keep thinking a day with no tears will surely come soon but nope, not yet anyway. Sometimes I get all the way to bedtime. Sometimes I barely get even awake before they come. But they are always there.
Today they came at the cemetery. No big shocker there. It’s kinda a place made for crying. So I stood there and talked to Vance and cried. I know he’s not there. His body is only a shell for the everlasting part of him; his soul. But for whatever reasons, having a physical place to go seems to help, so I keep going to the place we buried his body when I want to talk to him.
Most of what I said today was filled with regret. Ways I wished I had been a better wife. Things I wish I could have done differently, appreciated more. I told him I was sorry and I bawled like a baby.
I’m not sharing this so that you will tell me that I was a good wife or so that you will bring me comfort. I don’t need or want that from you but I did ask God to let Vance know for me.
I share it with you because I want you to be a better wife, a better husband. Take the days you have and cherish them. Yes, he should pick up his own smelly socks off the floor but those stinky socks aren’t what matters. Just pick them up and be glad he’s there to get them dirty. Yes, she should rinse out the sink after she brushes her teeth. But so what? Just rinse it for her. In the end, what will matter is that he was there and he was yours and you were his.