The first thing I did when he died was cry. I shouted so loud the neighbor called the cops asking if I was okay. I was not okay but I told him I was watching a scary movie even though my eyes were beyond blood shot. I went to my little pill cabinet. I looked at myself and then at what I was considering about doing. I threw the pills at the wall than got on my knees praying for help. The person I loved most was killed by a careless drunk who was probably only trying to drown out his sorrow but caused me the greatest pain. I wanted to be in his arms. I remebered his touch that would be no more. I felt the air grow thin as if the oxgen was evaporting. I wanted to end all the pain so bad. I managed to get through the next day but barely. I weeped , and laid in sorrow on my big queen bad. Family members called and I tried to hold myself together till the sound of the other line clicking. Flowers were ordered, coffin was bought, I the widow in grieve had to hold my mind together long enough to get through the preperations for my husbands depature from this world to the heaven above. When the day came I was with him before everyone else. I put his suit on him that he wore the same day we got married only a year ago. I felt the kick at my stomach. My baby was growing but he would never know it. That blue suit he loved did not change his color. He was so pale I almost wanted to run off. I looked at the man I loved one last time. All the memories we shared forever in my heart. 

I whispered I love you than I walked from the parlor to see his family.