Once again, I am alone... The children are in bed; and I am always on the same place, behind this severe desk, you always detested it so much, you hated him... You did not like it, because I spent too much time there ... And you were right, I am always there ... But accountancy will wait, this evening I want something else... I will be reasonable later.. This evening, I have no force to be reasonnable ... This evening, I am sad; Mary;.. I am so weary of this pain, so much emptied; it hurts so much... I know that I will be better in my bed, I know that I will have to go to take a little of rest... Tomorrow I will have a new day of labour , there is so much to be done and fortunately, it holds me in life, I grab hold of job as a survivor in a board of wreck... A wreck, yes, so it's my shelter, here is my life, now... I am only a dead tree , emaciated, dried out... I so feel pain; Mary. I miss you, the lack is so big, nothing more has sense without you... Foods are flavorless, colours are seedy; even stars disappeared in heaven of Ponderosa. You were my star, my guide, my headlight; how do I find my way now???? I am blind, I see nothing more, I only feel the pain which hurts my heart, which hurts my body and that is going to destroy me, I feel it, I know it.....
I have to go to sleep; yes; that's right, I have to go to bed; but I know that this is going to hurt me. Our room hurts me, the bed hurts me; everything reminds of me to you... Your perfume, your shirt which stil hung in the cupboard, your perfume which still floats in the room... Your brush with your hair over, oh just some ; I know that you did not like to find one on your brush of soft silk.... everything for me is at the same time solace and tortures... Your brooch, the one that you carried the day of our weddings; she is there; I did not want that you leave with; I wanted to keep this for me.. You left with so many things: your ring, your bracelet, your medal , which pressed itself at all times between your breast, I know it, I remember it; I have enjoyed it, when I could take it off with my tongue..
Oh Mary, I miss your body ; you were the love of my life: love-passion, love - carnal, love-fusion, love - languorous; love-effusion.... I will never make you love, I will never make love again, my body claims you, my heart pines for you, my hands tremble by not gripping you any more, not fondling you any more. My eyes wear themselves out to search you non-stop in the rooms of the home, my eyes are burnt by every tear which I shed when I see our boy searching you, claiming you, waiting for you, yes he waits for you... In spite of words, in spite of the truth, in spite of reality, he waits and I will not be able to blame him. What death means at seven ; while this word stay uncomprehensible for a man and a father
Pretty Mary, Mary my love, Mary my ray of sunlight, I miss you.....
