I remember well all the events that led us to the day that changed my life forever. That day that turned into the most dreadful of my life. I remember laughing as we kept our daughter in the wings and while playing with the boy. I remember how the wind scattered the perfume as we returned home after a day with friends and relatives. I remember the sound of your voice on the way to the store and everything that was said and not told when returning home. I remember how I went with the kids out of the car and left over to the van. I remember the cry of the children who drew me from you and put me in. I also remember the noise that pushed me to run out. I remember exactly how they were doing in those moments and oh, my soul hurts. I remember my cries for help, I sounded like someone I did not know.
What I do not remember is the night that followed. To be honest with you, I do not remember the following week. I remember my tears, the many visits, and how I thought you could knock at the door from moment to moment. I remember that I had a lot to do, but I do not remember what I did.
Believe me, in the early hours I was quite numb, until when you covered the ground. Everything changed! What I will never forget from that night is sorrow, sorrow, indescribable confusion, and spiritual awareness that you are all off! I? I did not have anything she could do.
I learned a lot of things these times. I learned how to live without a person who can not. In fact, it is not living, it is survival. And I survive for them, our children. I learned that when the tragedy sits down the street in the home, there are still good people in this world. People who help you, keep close and love laughing.
I learned that in the end the little things are the ones that are missing the most. Your voice when you were happy, our late conversations, and the way I kiss each day before going to work. I learned that I do not want to be without you. I've learned that I do not want to be a single mother, I do not want to be alone, but I do not even want to have anyone else in my life.
I learned that it is grueling to raise your only children, especially when you were not prepared for such a thing. I learned that our son is upset with you, he wants to see you but you are not. I say that Dad is in Paradise but he raises his head and looks at me with some eyes that say I'm crazy.
I've learned that our little one, though (maybe) does not know what's lost, feels things have changed. About five o'clock in the afternoon starts and quarrels and I know why. Because the first thing you do to get out of work is to wash your hands, remove your shirt and keep it in your arms. It lacks and will miss you even more with time.
I also learned that pain also comes with great desire. The desire for everything to go well. The desire for everything to be as it was or as it may be. Cry for our plans, for never travel, for a home that will never be "ours". I'm sorry how smell I think kindergarten, school, graduation, wedding or grandchildren. I learned that my life will never be the same.
Two other things I have learned is that the grief of suicide is different from mourning and that the question is what I hate more. The way you heart out of this life tortures me every day from the questions people ask to know what did not go? Why do you break the trigger of the gun? So I torture myself every night thinking that if I knew I could have stopped all this.
I see our photos together and try to reveal something more after your smile or kissing. Did you know that one day you would do this? What did your heart deserve? The only answer I come to your mind is that no, you did not plan anything. I can not know the other part.
With "normal" deaths there are no such questions; so let me say that I am jealous for anyone who loses the husband / wife in ways we consider to be normal. Quite strange, I never thought I would say such a thing. I'm BAD! However, I am comforting with the children and I try (swear, with all my soul) not to ask myself for anything that happened. I'm trying to do something, to survive.
Love you. God I miss!