My Dearest Love,
It has taken me far too long to write this letter, to put into words what is tearing at my heart. It has been over two years now since the cancer stole you from me. I’ve tried to get on with life as I promised you I would, I really have, but I just can’t do it. The empty days, the loneliness, the deep ache in my heart and soul, getting up every day and wondering why I bother – all of that. All that is left are my memories, your photos, and a house full of reminders of you yet empty at the same time.
Regrets. Those trips we wanted to take, places we wanted to see, but we put off because of job situations or income concerns or whatever stupid crap came up to postphone those dreams? Your mom always said I spoiled you. If I could do it all again I’d do even more. How foolish I feel now, and how much I regret that I didn’t grab at every opportunity to bring out the love and happiness in your eyes. We thought we had all the time in the world to do those things. We were wrong. I was wrong.
When the medical bills piled up we sold the bikes and your corvette. They were just things. We needed the money. Had we known your time was so short I’d have said screw it and just maxxed out the credit cards. Anything to spare you the disappointment at losing the car you loved so much, or the guilt you felt because we gave up the bikes. That wasn’t your fault, it was cancer’s. Still, you blamed yourself.
That last trip we took together, I should have said to hell with work and taken the time off immediately instead of waiting the extra week; a week in which the cancer stole the use of your leg and confined you to that damned wheelchair. Had we gone a week earlier you would have enjoyed it more. That trip remains precious to me. I can still see the joy in your eyes watching Cirque de Soleil, or when room service brought you that big carafe of cocoa for your breakfast. The love shining in them every time you looked at me … and the pain as cancer slowly stole you away. The pride you felt at showing me Grand Canyon. The warm feeling of being together those days, driving all those miles, just spending time together with the woman I love, yet knowing that time was drawing to a close and there wasn’t a damned thing we could do about it. Little did we know how little time remained. Had we taken the trip sooner you would have been able to do more, enjoy it more. We returned home from that trip and you were gone a few days later.
So many more regrets. For all of those times when I fell short of being a good husband, for the times I failed you, you have my deepest apologies. You followed me through two countries and even more cities, and never complained as my career path had is migrating like gypsies. How cruel that cancer struck just as you were pursuing your own dreams. Now you’re gone and I’m left here to lead an empty shell of an existence. Yes, I’m feeling sorry for myself. Yes, I need a kick in the ass. How I wish you could be here to give it to me. I’ve tried to pick up the pieces, to get back into living as I know you want me to. I can’t. Not today. Maybe tomorrow.
Sent with all my love forever,
John