It's been nine years since my wife passed away from cancer the day before Valentine's Day.
I've moved on.
(There's a low rumble of distant thunder. The wind is cold and bitter and dark clouds fill the sky.)
It's near to February and the dark clouds are beginning to form.
It's that time of year again as I try to prepare for the storm.
I scream out your name and plead with God “Why?"
The years weren't enough, why'd you have to die?
I thought we'd be together forever I still can't believe your gone.
Nine years later . . . I've moved on.
I am plagued by your last words echoing in my head.
“I am tired. I have had enough” as you lay there in bed.
Your loving heart beat its last beat and my heart was broken.
I regret the things I should have said that now remain unspoken.
All those memories haunt me of what I should have done.
I wish I could tell you . . . I've moved on.
After thirty six years our two hearts had come to beat as one.
And at the moment yours stopped it felt as if there was none.
Many years have passed but no matter how I try.
When February comes I hide in shame so no one sees me cry.
I can only hope that someday as my eyes greet the dawn.
That I can truly say . . . I've moved on.
You were fighting a battle that couldn't be won.
No doctors on earth could stop the damage that was done.
The years go on and I'm told these sad memories will fade.
I still remember your battle and how you were never afraid.
I pray all the time and hope some day the pain will be gone.
And then I tell myself once more . . . I've moved on.
I pray you're in a better place when I have these thoughts of you.
Maybe you're hanging out with Billy, Mom, Harry and Diane too.
Perhaps there will be a day when I'll be able to see you again.
For now I'll work through this sorrow using paper and pen.
By springtime this sadness will have packed its bags and be gone.
And for another year . . . I've moved on.
I prayed every day for help and God seemed to hear my plea.
For He brought into my life someone to once again love me.
I guess I'd be lying if I said I was unhappy, because usually I'm not.
Perhaps it's time to stop fighting a fight that just can't be fought.
I need to be stronger and stop allowing into sadness be drawn.
Maybe then I can believe . . . I've moved on.