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I was doing so well yesterday in the midst of my complete and utter sadness. I tried to think positive things. I tried to hold onto the good memories and be optimistic that this too happened for a reason beyond my understanding and that, in time, God will send me a memo. Ted came by after he got off work with some beer. We went and grabbed a quick dinner down the street, came back to the house and ordered a movie to watch. All the while, I was hanging in there... trying hard. Late last night, after I posted, I laid down on the railroad track. I don't remember where it was in the house that the train hit me, but it was the worst complete breakdown I've had in weeks. I just sat in the floor with her stuff and cried like one of those kids in the market that wants the candy so badly when their parents say no that they cry until they almost pass out. The gagging and choking, bulging veins, bulging bloodshot eyes, and bright red skin smeared in snot and tears. It was absolutely miserable and I just wanted to die. Not in the sense that I wanted to harm myself because that is just ridiculous, but in the sense that I just wanted to close my eyes and go to her. I prayed for some help... anything. I made it downstairs and climbed into bed. I don't remember anything but hurting and crying... apparently I fell asleep at some point. I had a lot of trouble getting out of bed when I woke up. I had to drive to the northern part of the county Erin died in... to the crime lab at the Sheriff's Department. This morning was the day I was finally to collect her things. I got lost on the way there, but made the appointment more or less on schedule. They only release property 2 days a week and by appointment only. I ring the buzzer on this huge metal door to identify myself and gain access. The door opens into one of the longest, barren, nondescript hallways I've ever seen. It was surreal. I had to march the mile to the bulletproof counter window at the opposite end of the hall and start signing my name to a chicken scratched and completely disorganized paper trail. I found errors in the release document and pointed them out to the lady handling it all... "oh, I just overlooked that... sorry" must have been said a couple of times. I made it through that part without losing it, but when she went in the back to get the evidence burn bags, I couldn't hold on anymore. Initially I was going to go through the items there to ensure they didn't miss anything, but sitting through a one by one show and tell through the window would have taken a long time, so I just asked to leave. I called my mom. I called her dad and mom. I called the detective to ask about the finality of the paperwork. I tried to keep myself doing something while I was driving so I could make it home. I think I got the bulk of it all... the only article of clothing they returned was her blue jeans, but other than that it seems there... I didn't check items off the list. I just glanced through the stuff and decided it could wait for another day. I know her phone will hold countless calls from me on the morning of her accident with worried messages and pleas for verification that she was ok. I know her laptop will hold emails from me telling her I love her and miss her and hope she is ok. I know her purse is full of little things that will all be reminders of her busy life in service of others around her... she cared about everyone. They can wait for me a while. As if the sheer act of driving an hour to collect my dead wife's things from the evidence department wasn't enough... seeing the clinical detachment in words like "investigation: dead white female" on the red taped evidence bags they handed me... holding the last article of clothing she was wearing from our house or her cell phone that so many times was pressed against her cheek as she spoke to me... if the summation of all that wasn't enough to crush me this morning, getting home and watching Henry smell his mommy on the stuff I brought in and seeing the look in his eyes was devastating. How can you comfort him when he can't understand what is going on... only that she is not around. It hurts so much and I can't stop crying. I can't stop. Here is something I found out today through one of those chain email things that goes around... I wanted to share: The number one song in the US on the day I was born: How Can You Mend A Broken Heart - The Bee Gees The number one song in the US on the day EL was born: Love You Inside Out - The Bee Gees Ironic, isn't it?