Dear You, Love, Me

Dear You, Love, Me

Tweet Dear You, It has been 14 years and 6 days since my husband Drew asked me to be his girlfriend on Spring Break; 6 years, 9 months, and 28 days, since he asked me to be his bride at Tony Angelo’s Italian Restaurant; 5 years and 10 days since we were married at New Orleans Museum of Art and 4 years, 8 months, and 12 days since he passed away at MD Anderson Cancer Center. Throughout these times, one thing kept our connection consistent: writing to one another. I have archived many a card, note and email to preserve the communication we shared, something we all lose when our loved ones pass away. On an insignificant fall night in 2009, I was struggling with the loneliness that ensued with his death, all the while searching to practice everything I had ever learned in school about how to cope with grief. As a wedding gift, Drew and I had been given a beautiful blue journal to preserve the memories of this new chapter of our life together. Partly out of anger and sorrow, and partly out of returning to the best way I knew how to connect with Drew, I opened it to the first page. I began to scribble down how mad I was that my car had broken down (yet again) and how I needed someone to yell at. I laugh now that my thoughts weren’t some poignant Hallmark card, rather a list of my daily troubles. After writing for what felt like forever, I closed the journal and sat back on the couch. There was no...