Two painful memories from over a decade ago are seared in my mind. The first happened the afternoon of my husband’s funeral when I was asked this heart-wrenching question: “Did Dad write me a letter?” I had to choke out this answer: “No, I am so sorry, he didn’t. He just couldn’t.”
My husband died just three months after his cancer diagnosis. With the shock of a very bleak prognosis, the many resultant and necessary decisions along with his physical suffering, he didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to write letters despite my pleadings.