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Letters to Cullen

Cheffing

Cheffing

Dear Cullen, I am starting to cook again. Not the cheffing that you used to do (yes I made up that word), but a little minor cooking for myself. Whenever I am in the kitchen I remember all of the "cook-ups" that we used to do on the weekends (o.k., it was you mainly cooking and me sous-cheffing, but I helped and I kept your wine glass full!). I'd give anything to sous-chef for you again CW. Fun times and great food, and I learned a lot about the best tools and techniques and your best tricks for making delicious meals. I loved how...

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Ashes in the Wind

Ashes in the Wind

Dear Cullen, This past Friday I said the last official goodbye to you. I took a sailboat ride and scattered your ashes at sea in Westbrook. In reality it was less like scattering and more like pouring, and it was Long Island Sound. But it was nice. The boat captain and her first mate friend were super sweet, supportive and knew the perfect spot for the occasion. It was called the "W" buoy (very appropriate, and can look it up on a map), and was really quiet out there except for the buoy's bells tolling softly as the buoy was swayed by the...

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Tears in Grand Central

Tears in Grand Central

Dear Cullen, Today was the first day officially back in the office in the City. The brutally long commute, the train, the battle with tourists in Times Square. I knew immediately when I boarded the train that it would be rough. I thought of when we used to text each other in the morning to say have a great day, I love you, can't wait to see you tonight, and my heart broke for the thousandth time. But I held in the tears as best I could. The first crying spell came at noon, when I saw someone from my team who hugged...

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Thirty Days Later

Thirty Days Later

Dear Cullen, I can't believe it's been one month since the car accident, when I lost you forever: my husband, my best friend, my person. I miss you every day, every hour, every second. I have been trying to keep myself busy as so many people recommend, to try to "deal with" my grief. Truthfully, every little thing I do reminds me of you, so I'm not sure it's helping. The manual labor and working out helps I suppose (the endorphins?), and my brain is focused partially on something else other than the huge void in my life that I blame on...

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