The day you died. The day I joined this club, the widows club. It was a horrible day. The day I had to do the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. The day I had to tell our kids that you were not coming home, the day I had to tell them you were in heaven. It was a strange day, I had been here before, sorta, when you’d disappear, I would tell them you’d be home eventually though, and we would pray for you. Now, today, I didn’t get to say that. Today, I had to say, you weren’t here, and couldn’t be here, and were never coming back. In a way, it was easier, because this, this day was not of your choosing. However, I dont think the other days were either you were taken over and consumed by a monster, I would see glimpses of you and know you were miserable inside this monster to. When I was sitting with you early today, sitting with you waiting for your spirit to pass, I was filled with sadness and disbelief, you had gotten sick on Friday, it was only Tuesday, how could I be losing you? You were finally on a wait list to get into a rehab, so that we could rebuild our life after the destruction your addiction had brought. It was so unfair for it to end this way! I was angry with you to, you were leaving me again, you were going to be with Jesus in heaven, finally at peace, and I was here, like I always was when you’d leave, taking care of life, taking care of our kids, painfully going through and never quitting. Now, I had to tell our children, I had to be strong, I had to tell them You were never going to come home. I dreaded this moment, I didn’t know how I was ever going to be strong enough, to tell the ones that I love the most, that their daddy was never going to hug them, smile at them or hold them ever again. I did it though, somehow I was able to pray to God to hold me up long enough to hold our kids up. I started with reading a book about heaven to our kids (a short children s book) and asking them what heaven was like, I let each one of our three kids explain (the other two are just babies) they talked of a happy place, with no pain, where God was and Golden streets. We smiled, and then, then I knew what I had to do, I asked the kids if they had remembered the two precious baby’s we had lost, Ethan did, and then, I said, those two baby’s finally got to meet their daddy today. Your daddy is in heaven, finally at peace, he’s not coming home, he died today. It was so hard, everyone cried, I cried, I’m crying now as I’m writing this. The pain of knowing my children will be fatherless, that they don’t have you at all. That was the hardest day of my life, and somehow, with Gods help, I made it through it. Now the hard part of living and waking up each day, knowing I’m a widow. Knowing I got to know love, and hurt and pain and live with you, and that this is how it ended.