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...the first day of spring, her favourite time of year. At 6:03am on a Sunday morning, just as the sun crept over the windowsill, my wife, my companion, my best friend, breathed her final breath in this life. Even as my heart was breaking, I was glad that her suffering had ended. She looked more peaceful than she had done for months.

I let go of her hand and shakily brushed her fringe away from her forehead so I could kiss it for the final time. Sobs racked my body as I promised her that I would always remember what she had taught me, that I would never again be who I was before. Tears fell freely onto the bed. I watched as what was left of my old self, the ruin of a person that I had been, crumbled and fell with them. I knew, in that instant, that a lifetime of such pain would be worth it, if only it brought me a moment of her. This pain, this relentless throbbing, I would not exchange for the entire world; for the pains she gave me are more precious than all other gains.

A Grief Observed

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