It has been 21 days since Valerie died. 23 days since that horrible evening when I found her. 22 days since the doctor told us that she had no brain activity. I count every day, every minute, every moment without her, as if my counting will somehow bring her back.

It won’t.

I wanted to share a poem that Val wrote for me early on in our relationship.  I think that it was about 4 or 5 months in.  She made a greeting card for me, and she taped little things, inside jokes or moments we shared together.  Little instances that only I would understand the significance of.

And then she wrote this poem:

The way that you treat me

Makes me want to give you more.

So I made a homemade greeting card,

Because I’m kind of poor.

Thank you for all the kisses,

All the hug invitations,

All the times you made me laugh,

And the long conversations.

Thank you for making me smile

Whereever we went.

Thank you for being the world’s best

Antidepressant.

All I ask of you

Is to tell me what you need,

So I can work hard to make you

As happy as you’ve made me.