When I think of this man buried in a grave – I believe there must be something more. Here is the one I called my husband, the one I loved and lived with, the one I knew inside out. How could this be the end?
There must be something more. I can’t accept that life ends in nothing. There must be something grand. There must be a place, a way, a time when I will see him again.
The way I live my life today is the direct result of a man who made a choice to love me. Each day he rose and chose to love me. He committed his belief in me so that one day I could believe in myself.
This story is too full to believe life ends in the grave. My heart knows there must be something more.
