Folded Newspaper

Folded Newspaper sits in my wallet. It has yet to yellow or become brittle, it’s still too new.

I pull it out from time to time and read the very few lines that sum up my husband’s life. It says his age, his occupation and where he died. The part that seems to burn and be written in bold is where it says who he left behind.

A few names. It seems so insignificant.

But all I see when I look at is a few names that weren’t important enough to live for. To fight for. Especially three girls who are going to face a time when normal girls reach for their daddy and they are just going to see themselves as they are written on that paper…insignificant.

Was this the legacy you wanted? Was this really what you left behind?

As you took your last breaths, did their faces come to your mind? At any moment did they matter for one second? Did you see their big brown eyes and toothy grins?

Because all I see now is huge brown eyes filled with tears that threaten to spill at any moment. I see girls who tell people in the store that their daddy is dead because they are trying to accept it best they can. I see eyes clinched in pain in sleep as they struggle through emotions that their young hearts don’t understand.

The folded newspaper…it’s all I have that shows your life. Yet, your life is all around me. It crawls in my lap for comfort. It asks for a bedtime story. It cries into my shoulders. It hugs me with love. It wipes away my own tears. It begs me to bring you back. It begs me to never leave it. It makes me promise to do the things that you will no longer do.

Just a few lines on a piece of folded newspaper. It’s all you are.



Categories: Uncategorized

6 replies

  1. Try to tell them they were more. Show them the love in the photos. Tell them he was “sick” and it had nothing to do with them.

    Make them believe they are more than just a few lines on the paper.

    You shouldn’t have to. It shouldn’t be your job.

    But you know they were loved.

    My thoughts are with you – as I’m certain I would feel the same, as a mother – wondering how the children could not be enough.

  2. Lines in a newspaper that cannot even begin to describe the pain left behind.

    I know that there is nothing that I can say that can help, I just wanted to let you know that you are heard.

  3. my heart breaks a little more with each post from you , I can’t tell you how much I am thinking of you lately.
    But I am glad you’re writing and letting us share the burden wtih us. I am so so so sorry for your loss.
    xox

  4. Reading your words is almost like a drug for me. Some how your words express the emotions that my family felt when my sister was taken. Granite she has nothing to do with not being with us, and yet my niece still aches for her mother. My parents still cry for their little girl….and tears come to my eyes just writing this in response. Pain still fills our hearts though we move forward. Somehow we are still stuck on May 3, 2007, although 2011 begs for our attention.

    Your words somehow comfort me. I don’t have the gift of words as you do, yet at the same time my heart breaks all over again from the same or similar emotions. Thank you for writing, and don’t stop. May God hold you as he has my family, and the little girl who is now 10. Life will be better, and will always be worth living.

  5. Alycia,
    put the paper away. He is dead. The girls are alive. So are you. Hug them Hold them. Let them hug you & hold you. Go for a walk. Do the things you used to do that made you happy.
    I know it’s hard. We are all holding you. You can do this, one more hour, one more day. Cry when you need. Keep writing. We are all holding you.

  6. You have been on my mind today, just wanted you to know

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