The Last Love Note

by Emma Grey

I’ve been so laser-focused on that, it never occurred to me that Mum must be feeling the same way, watching her child go through life without her husband.

child’s loss? Not just an adult child. A grandson, too. I remember asking my grandfather once when you start to feel old in your mind. He told me you never do.

I remember asking my grandfather once when you start to feel old in your mind. He told me you never do.

“But watching my already grief-stricken little boy hug somebody else goodbye was some of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. Like Mum must feel watching us!”

“Take it from a very old woman. No amount of sadness is going to bring your husband back. Did he want you to be happy when he was alive?” “Blissfully.” She smiles. “Don’t take that away from him, then, in death.”

“People want to know you can survive the unimaginable and pull yourself onto a new path, against the odds,”

It strikes me that Cam will never need water again. He’ll never need pajamas or sheets. Never a bed or a toothbrush or shaving gear. He’ll never drive. Never see the stars. Never anything. He is finished. Done. Gone. Full stop.

This is wrecking me

“Have you said everything?” Said everything? We’ve lost thousands of conversations. Millions of words.