One year later...

I wrote this a year ago, and have not recovered.

Angela M. Reichert - My Wife

My wife, Angela Marie, she was born July 20, 1963 at Camp Pendleton in San Diego. She married me on September 12, 2003. This only after I chased her down for a year and half. During that time she was my best friend. Even though we both dated others, we both talked about each other too much to our dates. Then at the beginning of summer of 2002, she decided that I was the one she had been needing, not just wanting, like the others (much her own words.) We got married at my parent's house. It was what she wanted.
Now for the sad apart.
Even before we got married I knew of the extent of her health. With her life style and the problem with her pancreatic; there was little hope. But she had no one else who would care for her. Our marriage was grand. We would go exploring various place around the Pacific Northwest that neither one of us had ever seen. Never to venture to far for a hospital in case she had an issue. Oh, yes, she would need to go the hospital about twice a month on the average. Her illness continued for over 6 years. each years she got worst. After we moved to Memphis she lost contact with her child (from her previous marriage). It appeared that the children (Elizabeth and Tyler) were led to believe that their mother did not love them. This was a lie. She love them more then live it self, more even me. A lie, to prevent them from attempting to contact her directly. Strange, the same thing happening to Angela when she was young, when her mother left her with her step-dad.
I feel that the move to Memphis was a mistake for all of us; her, me, her children, even my family too. Well, Jan of 2008: one morning she awakens me and shows me that her stomach was swollen. This was strange. Here a lady that weighed less then 90 pounds to have stomach that made her look like she was 6 months pregnant. We went to our family doctor (name withheld), and he quickly diagnosis that she was simply malnutritioned. So we went home. A few days later, after following the doctors instruction (with she also felt she knew best, and the doctors were quacks - after as many as we have seen I did not blame her.) we when to the ER. She was in the hospital for around a week then released. She still looked the same. They were following our PCP diagnosis. This was a Saturday (I believe). Then after a few more days at home and the problem did not seem to be getting any better, I took her back to the hospital. This time we force the doctors look outside box by not tell them any of her past medical conditions. By doing this they determined that her lever was failing. They removed nearly a gallon of puss from her lever. Unfortunately it was to late. Had they diagnosed it week to two earlier she may have had a change (yes, if the PCP or previous hospital visit.)
The HARDEST thing I have had to do was to tell her she going to die and there was nothing to prevent it. I stayed with her. On January 28, 2008 at 11:42 pm I felt the life leave her.

DAMN I MISS HER.

As I write this I cannot help but cry. After crying for the last 4-5 years I guess I am in titled to morn now (yea, tell my ex-boss that.)
I ask to anyone who reads this to say prayer. She had a hard life and I truly believe that every thing she did was in helping other unselfishly.

And for anyone interested in see some pictures of our wedding.