November 12, 2014.

Dad,

Yesterday was a month. It was also Veteran's Day. Mom also went back to work. It was a big, emotional day. From what I hear, your wife was as courageous and wonderful as you'd expect. She told me she broke down finally at the end of the day in the bathroom. But she was surrounded by teachers who loved on her and let her cry.
I can't sleep lately. The last two nights, as soon as it is dark and quiet, I sleep for maybe an hour and then I'm awake, most of the night, with anxious thoughts of you. I dreamt that you were in my house in your hospital gown. You kept saying it was ok, but I felt scared and unsettled. It's like my mind is obsessively playing those last days.
I don't want to only think of those days. I don't want those days to define my memories. I'm sure they won't. I guess right now they need their time in the light though. They need to mulled over so that I can digest them.
I also don't want to just complain. Even when you were tired, tormented with sickness and brokenhearted by diagnosis, you tried to find joy. I know it was hard for you. But I know that you tried. So I will too.
Today I'm thankful for the beautiful California sun that greets me most mornings. I'm thankful for my silly and tender-hearted son who read books in my lap this morning and waves at everything from people to hard boiled eggs. I'm thankful for a husband who wakes up at 5:30 in the morning and makes breakfast for him with a smile, and jokes and laughter. I'm also thankful for the trip we are planning with mom and Michael and Paige this Christmas to Big Sur and San Francisco. We are still going Dad. For you, with you.


I love you so much.

Christal