Strength Behind Recovery (May Rewrite)

The Last Stare.

For 3 weeks now we had been married. The ceremony was unforgettable and dreamy, I can still see her beautiful white dress. It was all a blur, I was caught in the moment. The moment felt like it was eternity. Everyone watching as I kissed the bride. Fulfilled my marriage and forever we would be one now. For the next 2 months we lived in perfect harmony, complete chemistry. I could never find someone who was more suited for me. Though sadness was brought upon my heart and mind, I was depressed inside. I wanted to raise a family with this girl, I wanted to do more with her. We lack time, and we lack health. Isabelle was getting fairly bad, headaches devastated her mind, and she was everything to me. Sadly I couldn't lose her, but that was inevitable. I talked with her about it, we cried in each other's arms knowing we could never raise a family, we could never retire together, and we wouldn't have another anniversary together.

She only had about a week now, it seemed I have become emotionless. I didn't show anything, I didn't show sadness and despair. I was blank faced like Isabelle was when I first met her. This was because ultimately, I was dead inside. This was shown over the fact that: I know that through every season and every year I will know she is still there. Spiritually and emotionally anyway. She is still in my heart eternally. Just because someone passes on, doesn't mean they are gone. It doesn't mean they are forever lost now. I know this because they are found, found within are hearts, souls, the very realm of spiritualism that makes us human.

About 4 days into our mourning she was sent to emergency for the second time. Sadly, this was also the last time now. I laid by her bedside to see a pale, weak, dying Isabelle. I couldn't bear anything of what I witnessed, yet I didn't close my eyes. Kneeling by Isabelle I clenched her hand and looked deeply into her eyes knowing this would be the last time I would. With the last of her strength she said "Complete, with you William." I repeated the same words using her name, staring into her vivid blue eyes for the last few seconds I could. My eyes flooded, her eyes had closed once again for the last time. Squeezing her hand, I wept for hours until I was asked to leave. Even then I pushed the time of scheduled curfew for visitors.

That night I wrote the eulogy for my wife, the perfect words for the perfect woman. I planned the funeral tomorrow. I awoke prepared. It was as if Isabelle was going to be by my side every word. It was the stereotypical cold, fall day. I stood there waiting for our pastor to finish his words. He invited me up to say words for Isabelle. Perfect words for a perfect woman. "Isabelle gave me the path I've always wanted, a path of true love. Behind a stone was resurrection, behind every recovery is strength. Love is strengthened by our recovery, the love we have due to struggle and pain is far greater than anything that is out there today. I was pushed out into the dating world and married in three months. We lacked the time we needed for each other, but through true love we knew every last moment was worth it. Me and Isabelle we were complete." I couldn't have said it better, we were complete. She is now gone, but still here with me and I will never let go of our strength. The strength we obtained through our very own painful recovery.

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