
(Photo: Wendy Granger)
My dear Dallis,
Sweetheart, I know I told you as you were dying that everything would be okay … that I would be okay … but it was a lie. I don’t like lying to you and I didn’t intend to do so; I was just trying to convince myself, and I was telling you what I thought you needed to hear so that you could let go and be released from a body that was failing you. But now I am utterly heartbroken. I feel completely lost without you. I want so badly to hear your voice again. I want to kiss your lips. I want to hold you and be held by you.
What touched my life so thoroughly during our love affair and marriage is how you would look at me with such affection in your eyes it melted my heart. You brought me to tears so many times just by being honest with me about how you felt. We told each other our deepest truths. We relied on one another to always care most about the other.
I can’t believe how lucky I was to have you in my life for nineteen years. If I had known sooner that our time together was nearing the end, I would have stopped working earlier and devoted all my time to you … to us! I would have reveled all the more in your smile and laugh. I would have asked you to tell me more about the greatest joys of your life, all the way back. I would have wanted to watch your New Zealand slides with you, and have you regale me about that favorite adventure of yours, years before we met.
I would also have wanted to hear more about the places of pain and disappointment in your life, many of which I know about and others I imagine were left unsaid.
This grief hurts beyond imagining. I feel like I’m dying inside. I struggle just to do the simplest things and get through each day.
I wish there was a way to communicate with you, my beloved. I write these thoughts I’ve been thinking and wish I could get this message to you. You were the very one I needed in my life. You cheered my successes, savored our relationship, and gave me every bit of yourself to love and enjoy. You were my anchor, my safe haven, my source of lightheartedness and joy.
I’m trying to figure out how to live without you near to me, your physical presence that is. I have never been through more painful days than these. A heavy sadness follows me everywhere, even to sleep. Nothing in my life experience compares to this aching I feel in body, mind and spirit.
Dallis, my beautiful one, it is my deepest hope that you are where there is no more pain and no more crying, and where you know deep and abiding peace. I also hope to see you often in my dreams.
You will always have my love,
Mark
Wishing I had words of wisdom that would help you as you learn to live in this new normal.
Thank you for sharing this Mark. My heart aches for you as you trudge through this terrible grief. I am sure it feels like there will be no end to this Good Friday and I am so very sorry.
Thanks, Robb. It’s true, I don’t see the light yet. Looking at pictures of us is comforting and wrenching at the very same time. Appreciate your care.
Dear Mark,
What a beautiful and raw letter you have written to Dallis. Memories of my raw grief mingled among your thoughts. Grief has its own way and we are powerless when it surges. It just has to hurt because the love was so dear. I’d be glad to be one among your support team. I have walked through this fire. I’ll PM you. Sharon
You and Dallis had something rare and special that was so apparent to all who saw you, and we were blessed by that love.
Thank you for sharing Mark. Your letter was beautiful.
I have no great words of wisdom.
My situation was different.
When Joe died the anger that allowed me the strength to divorce & leave, melted & my greif of his death re-opened the 10 years past broken heart from raised fists & foul words. When he died that anger shifted & I was able to mourn the man I married, not his shortcomings.
Take your time. Be kind to yourself. Hot baths with Epsom salts. Long walks. Allow yourself to fall down.
No expectations.
If my ear can be helpful, I’m here willing to listen.
Dallis was a beautiful soul.
We were blessed by her presence
Thank you for sharing. Your love is raw but also beautiful and a gift. My husband died two and a half years ago. His memory is aways with me. I say. Mike would love this sunset or he would choose this in the menu or what would Mike do. I sleep with four pillows and sleep reliving special memories. I cherish the times when he was not well and we just sat together for hours feeling our connection. I feel so grateful to have known love. It is the greatest gift and makes me who I am now. I so admire your love for Dallas and is so special. You are indeed blessed to have that and it can never be taken away. I will be thinking of you as you go on this new journey and would love to hear relate your special day to day memories. ❤️🙏🏽
Dearest Mark
Your words, your love story, sincerely touched my heart, mind and soul. You are gifted in many ways, your letter to Dallis is so honest and open.
I too know of your struggles; it was four years ago on January 10 that I lost my beloved Carole. It was the most difficult time of my life. Many family and friends reached out with caring supportive loving arms. I clearly remember being invited to dinner at friends homes and feeling envious of their relationship. I remember being home along listing to songs and bursting out in sobbing tears as the familiar words washed over me. Each emotional release bringing comfort to my aching heart.
I tell you you this because I have been where you are. I know, clearly, that we all travel this unwelcome and unfamiliar road of grief differently. I also know that early one on one grief conseling was probably what helped me most on my grief journey. I was very encouraged to hear that you too are in conseling.
Mark, know that you are surrounded, supported, lifted up in more ways than you will ever know by the caring, loving arms of family and dear friends.
“Love never dies, but lives on in those who remember.”
In Loving Friendship,
Don