It was approaching noon, and my wife and three other women in her photography club were due to return home after a morning of photography at a nearby alpaca ranch. I was waiting anxiously because we had scheduled a golf match at our local country club after a quick lunch. As I restlessly looked out the front window for her car, I witnessed a state police vehicle pull into the driveway. Two officers emerged and walked toward our front door. I welcomed them and inquired as to the reason for their visit. The young female officer asked if I had heard about an accident on Route 209. I replied that I had not. She informed me that a large semitrailer truck had rear-ended a car stopped at a traffic light. She hesitated a moment and then added, "Your wife was a passenger in the back seat of the car and was killed."
Following the subsequent funeral, that announcement continued to haunt me. Grief became more pronounced each passing day. In a conversation about my condition with a friend, he made the comment that I try dealing with my grief by writing. As we talked further, I mentioned how much I missed talking with her, how our conversations were always so alive and animated. This prompted another recommendation. "Write her letters, express to her your feelings of grief and more." I liked that, and this book is the result. It consists of a series of letters to Mae, whoever remains alive in my imagination. It has helped bring my grief to the surface and provide necessary therapy. I have determined to publish with the hope that in some way, it may provide grief insight for others who have lost loved ones.
Following the subsequent funeral, that announcement continued to haunt me. Grief became more pronounced each passing day. In a conversation about my condition with a friend, he made the comment that I try dealing with my grief by writing. As we talked further, I mentioned how much I missed talking with her, how our conversations were always so alive and animated. This prompted another recommendation. "Write her letters, express to her your feelings of grief and more." I liked that, and this book is the result. It consists of a series of letters to Mae, whoever remains alive in my imagination. It has helped bring my grief to the surface and provide necessary therapy. I have determined to publish with the hope that in some way, it may provide grief insight for others who have lost loved ones.
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