It was all I could do to try to stem the flood of tears that threatened to escape me. The harder I tried, the stronger the urge grew until I could hold them back no more. At long last, I gave in and allowed myself to grieve.
As I stared into my husband’s eyes, I could almost believe he could see me: his sparkling eyes trained directly onto mine. The photograph curled up at the edges in my hand. I should have known that my decision to unearth this photo album was only an invitation to revisit the pain. Not only did it bring back the flood of emotions attached to the memories, but worse, I’d eventually have to admit that he is gone forever. Closing the album meant closing a chapter of my life. Continue reading “The Final Teardrop”