Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Wish they were, but they're not. Que Sera Sera.
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I never thought I'd be the first to go, but to see her now, so peaceful looking, almost like she's sleeping. But I know she's not. Well, in a way she is, but it's the kind of sleep you don't wake up from, the kind of sleep that makes widows and widowers and children parentless. The kind of sleep that will, I'm sure, leave me waking up nights in a cold sweat, looking next to me in bed, my heart breaking every time I don't see her beside me. The way she'd curl up behind or in front of me, holding my hand in hers. The way she'd wake up in the morning, her eyes all full of sleep as she rolls over, kisses me on the cheek and softly says "Good Morning".
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As I hear tell, it all happened so fast, no one really knew what was going on until it was too late. She was at the market, she and little Jimmy, and just as she took his little hand in her right hand a car came barreling around the corner and plowed right over her, but not before she managed to push Jimmy out of the way. An off duty paramedic saw the whole thing and picked Jimmy up, handing him off to some old lady while he saw to Sara, but by that time it was too late; there was too much damage and too much blood loss.
I doubt he'll remember for very long, but I wonder what it must do to a child to watch their parent get senselessly killed, all because someone couldn't slow down and take their time. By the time she had been taken to hospital the doctors could do nothing to help her.
When I got the call I was at my desk looking over some plans that I'd made for our Christmas holiday. We were going to go to the mountains for a week and have a good old fashioned white Christmas with snowmen and the works. It would have also been our three year anniversary on the 25th, which is going to make this all that much harder. How am I going to explain to little Jimmy and Moira………………God, I miss her already.
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You never know how many friends you've got and how much someone is loved until you have a funeral. Seated in the front pew of Saint Catherine's Catholic Church, flanked by friends, loved ones and colleagues alike, I look around and see that the place is packed. Grissom and Nick seem especially hard hit by all of this, as they're sharing a box of tissues and their faces are tear streaked. Grissom, I know, hasn't eaten in days and nearly everyone else in the lab just seems to be wandering around aimlessly, blank expressions on their faces.
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Its raining out, but doesn't that always seem to be the case when someone is laid to rest? Our children on either side of me and a mob of people behind and around us, we all watch as the priest gives a poetic benediction and the casket is lowered into the ground. As the casket disappears from sight, I lose it. I can't help myself. I've tried to be strong, strong for the children and myself, but now she's gone, gone form our lives forever. Jimmy and Moira will never know how much their mother truly loved them and I'll never wake beside my beloved wife again.
The house seems so empty now without her running around doing her thing; cooking, cleaning, chasing the kids. Our bed is cold and empty and no amount of wishing will bring her back. Try as I might, I can't stop my heart from sinking every time I look at a picture of her or us. All I have are the last words she said to me before she left home; the words that echo in my mind all day long and pound in my brain when I cry from looking at our recently taken family portrait……………"I love you"
God, Sara, I miss you so much. All I wanted out of life was to live the rest of mine with you and our children and now that's gone. Every time I open the closet I'm hit in the face by the smell of your clothes and the every time I look at our children I'm constantly reminded of how selfless and beautiful you are.
I'll never forget you. I love you so much.
The End