Two against One

Emotions in the hours that followed Cathy’s death were sharper, cut deeper and were dominated by a deep sense of desperation and a wave of grief that crashed down like a giant wall of water.

Desperation. A friend of mine who lost his wife gave me a book awhile back and it spoke of many things - but one point was dedicated to the moments after death. There was a lot there but one of the things it spoke to - was the after-death part when people come to the house.

About 1:30, I took a short walk through a field Cathy and liked to walk in and then circled back and headed back to the farm house. 

I remember as I got closer to the house – a great sense of desperation came over me  - I almost started running toward the house in an effort to catch the funeral director …..

“I can catch him, I can see Cathy one more time….if I can catch him….. We can start again, We can start over, we will do stuff different this time…. It will be better this time, I can make it better, god don’t leave me. ………….. for some time, I was insane. 

It was brief, it was desperate, and I will not forget the anguish of that moment walking toward the old farmhouse.  

That frantic sense of desperation was eventually overtaken by powerful episodes of grief. These episodes were triggered by anything, a smell, an index card with her vitals jotted down, a picture --- anything.

They were so overwhelming and powerful I could actually hear them before they arrived  - I could hear the roar coming, like a giant wave gaining force until it came crashing down with full force. Crying Kevin.  

Emotion you can hear.  I have never experienced that before.

Another emotion or sense really was the sweet smell of spice, some kind of spice – I am not sure which one.

My brides temple area on the side of her head smelled of this sweet spice scent – I inhaled it every morning with a kiss there and the greeting  - “Good Morning Punkin Bread” I kissed her there a lot, and it was always accompanied by the sweet scent.

In the hours after Cathy’s passing, that scent filled my nostrils, it stayed with me during the walk. It stayed with me for a full two days after Cathy died. It was almost everywhere. I loved it. I still love it.

That lovely scent eventually left me.

It has been a full six days since Cathy died and today while walking through the house trying to do something productive  - that scent filled my nostrils yet again – unexpected and in full force.

“Good Morning Punkin Bread”: I love you, and I miss you so much.