He died

After five long, intense, round the clock care days, Rocky the turtle died. Last night. I sat on the floor and cried. I watched him take his last breath. Just like I did my husband. I don't understand why this tiny little turtle could not have just lived. Michael got a box he had made for him a long time ago. He made clouds from cotton balls, green grass, a window for him to see out of. He would let him sit in this little box once in awhile just to have a change in scenery. So we are going to bury him in that. As I have been taking care of him I almost started to feel like I did before Ted died. Like I had a purpose. I miss taking care of my husband so much. I miss giving him medicine when he needs it, rubbing his feet, his back, going with him to doctor appointments. He could have done all this by himself. But I loved being with him. Helping him. I think he liked it too. I miss you Ted. 14 weeks ago today at this time, you and I were both here at home. Together. Alive.