It’s March, little sweetheart. TS Eliot once called April “the cruelest month” but however mournful, even he did not know my sorrow. March is mine. March is the month you were taken from me. March is the month of the bitter anniversaries if your accident, our ten day vigil praying for your recovery, your tragic passing and soul-ripping grief that has followed me to this day.
Each day this month, little sweetheart, perhaps more than usual, perhaps more than any other, I must pray and be mindful, find ways to be kind and endeavor to busy myself with the work that remembers, honors and conjure you - The Most Beautiful Spirit, the blessing and very reason of my life.
Please be near me, won’t you, little sweetheart? Please help and guide me. And take me to you the moment heaven will allow. With all my love forever.
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