One of those Days

Dear Frenchie

I had to return Amazon stuff to the UPS store on Higley today. I think I have returned everything I ordered from Amazon since you passed away. I've lost so much weight when I went to see Dr. Howard; she told me I weighed 110 pounds. No wonder nothing fits me. I'm the same size I was when I met you. Cooking for two was hard, and now cooking for one is next to impossible; luckily, I don't get hungry. Dr. Howard said the least amount of weight I should have is 126 pounds. I don't know what else to do; I eat 42 grams of protein daily and a bowl of ice cream every night. Remember when I told you how thin I was in High School? At graduation, I only weighed 96 pounds. I can't get that low; I'm trying so hard to gain weight  I think I should set the alarm to remind me to eat like my mom did when I was a teenager.

Today, I was full of emotions. I was sad and regretful, which is something I try not to be. I'll talk to you about that in another letter. The strongest emotion I felt today was being mad. I drove up to UPS for the returns and sat in my car to watch this man. He must have weighed 500 pounds and could hardly walk; his son took everything in for him. I stared at this man for at least five minutes, wondering why? Why is he allowed to live? I know I shouldn't judge him, but it is so unhealthy for him I wanted to go shake him into the real world. I wanted to tell him it's a matter of time before he dies of a heart attack.

I started to ugly cry in my Jeep, watching him, and his son was not far behind him in weight. I miss you. It's not fair; you worked so hard to lose weight, and you drank that green drink every morning, the pomegranate juice, those immune drinks, and don't forget the beets, all of course from COSTCO:) You walked 10,000 steps, and for once in your life, you were truly happy. We fell in love all over again ... we had plans ... I don't understand why God would want you to leave me? ... To leave your grandchildren? ...This f'ing sucks. I'm not sure I am strong enough to do this. You've always been my lighthouse, the one who led me home. I don't have you anymore, and my heart is broken. I'm sorry; it has just been one of those days where everything I see around me has been a trigger. I love you, sweetheart, goodnight. I'll be back tomorrow and hopefully in a better mood.