Everything turns to dust

 So I have brought you home in a tiny box, a whole life of dreams, hope and pursuits boxed away and delivered in a bag.

I am sorry that you had to come back home this way, and so this is our story turned to dust. Something that took time to build and that cancer took no time to destroy. It ravaged our family and so it does with many others.

I talked to you even if you could not hear me, I welcomed you home and cradled you like a baby I always fitted on your lap but now you fitted in mine, my dear Julien. I am sorry for the short life you lived and for all the life that will never enjoy, all things denied to a father and husband.

Happier times. Ju and I expecting our first child. 

I also want to apologise that you are no longer in my bed and that you have been placed in the wardrobe, it is no place for you my dear husband.

I will one day release you so you are finally free and your ashes will merge with the rest of the evolving world. I can only hope it will bring me comfort to know that you have rejoined this planet, so whenever I look out to the sea I can see some part of you, until the day we are finally reunite in ashes.

Part of the pain is that your passing has affected my sense of belonginess and disturbed all the deep connections we have for love, my protective bubble burst. The things that we both lost in the fire, the foundations of our lives, all our little routines that created familiarity, comfort and security, so I am sorry again if I am reshaping my life without you. I am partly sorry for me too, as I  am no longer sheltered under the canopy of your love and unwavering reassurance.

Some days I miss everything about you, other days are easier. I can't say why, maybe I get sucked into the routine or maybe I am more familiar with the cycle of grief.

I may have to add, with a heavy heart, that memories are fading too, perhaps is our brain's way to cushion the loss and to propel us into moving forward, the children talk less about you. You will never be part of anything new again.

I worry that the prolonged distance between us will make me forget everything that made you mine, and eventually the memories will also turn to dust.