I only had a handful of hours before I had to leave him.

I kissed his body.
Every inch.
Toes, knees, legs, arms, neck, cheeks, lips, eyes, brows, head.
Kiss kiss kiss.
Kiss kiss kiss.
I squeezed his hand.

I pulled the chair next to his hospital bed and unfolded it like a cot. I grabbed the blanket I had slept with that night and curled up next to him.

I grabbed his heavy hand and laid it next to me. I slept and and held his hand and imagined we were in bed together and we were sleeping and there was no cancer and he was still my husband.

I wasn’t afraid.
I just didn’t want to ever leave him.
Lord, how can I leave him?
How can I never see him again?

I wouldn’t have left the room if my mom hadn’t sworn we could have an open casket.

I sobbed as I laid on top of him and nuzzled my face into his neck and held his head. I whispered how I love him. I kissed him. I cried.

Then I laid on his legs and rested my head on his thigh. Trying to hold him. To feel that closeness, that cuddling I hadn’t felt in weeks, with him having been in hospital beds.

How can I leave this room?
How can I leave my sweet BJ?

I could not have left if I knew it would be the last time I’d see him.

Somehow I left.
There was a moment of peace and I left.
I came back in to see him again.
Then left.

I left the hospital calmly.
In shock.
I didn’t want to be touched.


I feel ok.
I don’t know how.
I feel bad for not crying more.

Shelley came.
My baby’s mama is here.
She is helping us with all the everything that is left when someone leaves earth.

Oh sweet BJ.
There is much to do. To tie up.
I am overwhelmed.
But I see how much you did.
How hard you worked to take care of me.
How you ran a BUSINESS as you battled CANCER.
How you had so much going on and how you never complained.
You were a marvelous, marvelous man.

Today I felt the prayers.
People are praying.
I know because I feel it.
I know because today I DID have the peace that transcends all understanding.

Today I felt the prayers.
We looked through emails and accounts and had the feeling like we can do this.
It will be hard. It will be tedious.
But that we can do it.

Thank you, Jesus.
And thank you sweet BJ-
I know I never leave your sight.


Babe. Please wake up. BJ wake up. Please bb. Please baby wake up. I want to say goodbye.

Baby you’re dying. You’re dying. I just want to say goodbye. Please babe wake up. I love you so much. I love you. I love you.

You’re dying BJ. You’re dying. It’s ok. It’s going to be ok. I love you so much. You are so brave. I love you so much baby.

I just want to say goodbye.
Please baby.
Please wake up.
I love you so much.
I’m going to miss you so much.
I love you. I love you.

Posted on Facebook Saturday, June 27:

I don’t know how I made it through Day 1 without you, sweet BJ. I was sad. I was ruined. I was grateful. I was angry. I was sobbing. I was comforted. I was overwhelmed. I was hopeful. I was weepy. I was calm. I was devastated.

I know I only made it through because I heard you cheering me on, baby. And I heard your applause tonight. And I saw you and felt you all over the place, bb. And I love you so much.

Posted on Facebook Friday, June 26:

Thank you Lord for giving me BJ. I am so grateful that you in your mercy allowed me to be with him as he passed. I am so grateful to have been able to love and be loved by him. Thank you for he wonderful years and weeks and days you gave me with him. I wasn’t deserving of a love like BJ’s. In your great love Lord, you gave me BJ, my great love. All my days I will sing you praises Lord. I will praise your name for you have been good to me.