My first birthday without you. Weird, painful. This week has been especially hard for me. I am going through your things. Cleaning up the bedroom I have not moved anything in for 7 months other than to just "surface clean". I am finding cards, letters and all sorts of things to bring memories to the front of my mind. I have packed your clothes in bags and boxes. I am going to make a quilts out of your clothes. I cannot bear the thought of someone just putting a price on them and selling them in a store, like the just had no meaning or were not wanted. Each piece made me think of where it came from and the many times I saw you wear it. How your sizes changed with your getting better and worse with the cancer. You called some of them your "fat pants". I always thought only women did that. I feel like putting your things in bags and boxes is like almost saying you didn't exist. I can't stand the way it makes me feel. I know its probably time to do this or I wouldn't be doing it. It's still harder than I thought. I found a Valentines card you gave me last year. I cryed. I have cryed alot over most things I have put my hands on this week because they are so special. The medical supplies have been THROWN in boxes and cussed. They are the enemy. They always were. They were a reminder of the way cancer took so much from you. I took all my frustration out on those poor little medical supplies. It felt good! I have thrown away some of the medical supplies because you can't give them away. I don't want to look at them. I wish someone would come do this for me. I know I have to do it. I need to do it. Baby, you are not being erased from this house. You are in everything here. Everything I see here is you. Where you stood and laughed, watched TV, played cards with me, fed the cats ice cream. Even the painful memory of where you died. Its all a part of you being here. I hope you know that. Furniture may change. My heart never will. You always will be here. Always. Your wife-person Pam