Dear Sara,
Fourteen and a half years ago we promised we'd love and cherish each other "until death do us part." I'm finding that even though plenty has been written about grief, grieving, and the processes we go through, no one seems to have come up with a manual, or a set of rules, for the real day-to-day stuff that one has to deal with when the parting happens far too soon. I'm working on my list of things that I'm sure I'll need to do at some point, but it doesn't feel right to think about doing them now. It doesn't feel like it will ever feel right to do them.
Will it ever feel OK to delete your phone number out of my contact list? I canceled your cell phone. It didn't seem to make much sense to keep paying for it; but, I don't feel like I can delete your number out of my phone. What if I dial it on accident some day and someone answers?
How long should I keep your FaceBook account active? People are still sending you friend requests. Should I accept them? Should I ignore them? Will I ever find a day when I don't want to post on your wall and tell you how much I miss you? Will it be obvious to me when I should change my status from Married to Single? Do they have an option for Widower?
What about your email? I unsubscribed to most of the daily "junk mail" type emails you were getting. What if something legitimate comes through? I don't send you emails, but what if I want to? Do they have email in heaven?
Is there a rule about how long I should wear my wedding ring? At some point will it make other people feel uncomfortable when they see it on my finger? It feels right and good right where it is. When they took it off at the hospital to clean my hand and bandage my injuries it felt so wrong, so final. It's comfortable and comforting...does it stay that way?
What would you like me to do with the kitchen? You worked so hard stripping the cabinets and painting them. I know you ultimately wanted to do a whole kitchen remodel, even replacing the cabinets. It hurts to think about taking them out now, ruining all your hard work. What about the bathroom? I know you wanted to completely remodel it, too (and it really needs it.) But you're not here to repaint the walls back to the way they look now. If I have it done will it feel like I'm losing the part of you that's still here?
I guess that's all I have for now. I'm sure I'll think of more as time passes.
I know I don't need to say it, but I miss you. I miss Miranda.
Hugs and kisses,
Chad
