Letter: Two Must-Haves I Dare Not Leave Home Without

I admit that my life anymore is an open book, the pages tear stained. It’s a sad story, at least this current chapter. I must remember before leaving the house to be sure to have a handkerchief in my pocket. Someone will ask me how I am doing and that will be all it’ll take.

Many are those reading along with me this unfolding tale who write of their appreciation for the privilege of joining me on this difficult journey.

I suppose there is somehow something cathartic for others to participate vicariously in what has become my daily ritual of grief-sharing.

How do I not put pen to paper when sitting here alone in the early morning surrounded by so much that she loved?

How do I lose my life-long love and not weep?

As I reach for another Kleenex, I honestly don’t know.

Five years ago on this day, my wife and I – while awaiting our appointment with her Oncologist – were making plans for our road trip the next day to celebrate our 46th Wedding Anniversary.

The dear lady sitting across from us was crying.

There was no one sitting beside her. No one to hold her hand. No one to be close without having to say anything.

Just someone to be there.

But there was no one.

Then a nurse stepped into the room and called her name and she was gone.

Now I am there.

My wife is gone.

And here is what I am discovering.

Not a whole lot matters anymore.

Sure, there are responsibilities. Places to go, people to see, things to do.

But in all of that, there are two things I dare not leave home without.

The first is to be in possession of something described by a fellow named Le Clerc.

“It is the greatest ornament of human nature, and the strongest bond of human society; which if anyone wants, however rich he may be, yet he is despised.”

That must-have attribute of which Le Clerc wrote using such superlatives?

Kindness.

The other must-have before I get on about my day?

A handkerchief.