Yesterday was the first time I saw a picture of David’s name on his tombstone. It was in the ground above his final resting place. And yesterday was the first time I really lost it crying, an uncontrollable and violent cry, a screaming and wailing cry.  I cried until it hurt and I still could not stop, even when I finally stopped, the tears were still streaming down my face.

I was MAD. Mad because the world seems so unfair, mad at the disease, mad that we did not get a MIRACLE, mad at the  lack of progress in cancer research in making better progress at preventing or curing cancer, a disease that has devasted so many lives.

The picture with David’s name on a tombstone struck a cord so deep. The grass had not fully covered the area, making it clear that it was dug out, David’s body was laid there and the dirty was placed back over. It made the death of David real, it is real, David is gone, his full name is on a tombstone with an end date.

I was MAD, I am MAD. How can you David be lying below ground buried? How can your name be on a tombstone?  This should not have been our destiny yet. It was cut too short, it is OVER, you are never walking through the doors again. Why was our story cut so short? You had the zeal and energy for life, you wanted to live, you needed to live, I needed you to live. We all did.

This is the hardest I have cried because it is confirmation that even though I want to feel that you are home, you are not, you are gone. The picture of the tombstone confirms it.  As my Sister helped console me, I finally remembered that it was Monday and Mondays always seem to be my worse days and through my tears I was able to joke about the fact.

My evening ended putting the girls in bed, they were so full of energy and so happy to see me. They reminded me of the joy of life and where my happiness resides as they hugged and kissed me until the fell asleep.