I wake to still hear your voice in a dream I have too often. I mourn my sons and you...No one had a funeral for (me) you, they didn't see my (your) dead body. I was the only witness to your death and although I have told them you are dead no one believes me. They say that it couldn't be possible, that they have seen you afterwards smiling and living. I think they have seen your ghost. I think sometimes I see you too, but I know who I see isn't real.
Even though you have not told me I have a feeling you are with our sons. I keep imagining you running with them, laughing and living somewhere in a place where pain cant touch you. I wish I could be with you because if I'm honest enough there's so much pain on this side and my body and soul drag wearily through each day dying just a bit more with every blow life deals to me. I have to say I'm tired in a way I do not think anyone can understand and the more I feel this tired the more bitter my heart is becoming. Its frustrating to realize that the evolution of humanity has not come up with remedies for this kind of sickness, this kind of brokenness.
I would bring you flowers but the unmarked grave is just that; unmarked. Know that I think of you often, and although no one else does I remember you and you are missed. Kiss the boys for me...Tell them my love for them transcends dimensions and time.
ILY
