widower

‘My friend called and said I had to fertilize my lawn. ‘What?,’ I asked. ‘You know, fertilizer.’ Visions of spreading cow crap bare-handed dance in my head. ‘It’s going to rain tomorrow, so do it today.’

“I said, ‘fine,’ all the while thinking, “this is dumb, this is dumb, this is dumb.’ Yet I realize this is one of those things I have to do now, on my own. So, I sent my daughter to the store to grab a bag, and $25.00 later, I’m ready to go. Or so I thought…”

‘Help me get daddy out!,’ she begged. ‘He won’t like being dirty.’ I took her to see his grave. She started digging up the dirt, crying her little heart out. We sobbed until we had no more tears to cry.’

“She was 3. That was the last time I took her to his grave. She told me her ‘heart hurt too’ much and she didn’t want to go back. She asks if our family can die and ‘be a star in the sky with daddy.’ I go straight into Mommy mode and reassure her we can’t be stars. It’s not our time.”

‘Evil never takes a day off. So, how can I?’ The man of my dreams died a mere 8 months after being diagnosed with this horrible disease. ‘How can this be?,’ the nurse in me kept asking.’

“I begrudgingly shared my email with her. She thought I’d be a good fit for her son, who she said looked like Matt Damon. He walked into my apartment wearing ‘white snake jeans,’ a brown trucker shirt, and black shiny shoes. Obviously, it was not his wardrobe that won me over.”

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