I keep asking myself this question over and over. “God why did you have to take him too?” How in the world was calling him to heaven only two months after my mom anything but a cruel joke? My mom always said Ponch would be here until I didn’t need him anymore. Well, I need him. Why did he have to be taken too?
Technically, he is here, just now in an urn or “the pot” as I call it. I always said that Ponch would always stay with me, even in death, never leaving my side, and truthfully I haven’t wrapped my mind around the fact that I keep him here with me. It makes me feel so uncomfortable and just reminds me each and every day that I can’t go back and change my authorizing of his departure. Each and every day I wake up and face this new reality and silence, my new world, without my two best friends. Why can’t they be here with me?
Better yet, why do we have no say in when our loves leave us? Why must I have my heart ripped out so viciously three times in less than a year? Why did I have to watch my guy alive one moment and gone the next at my choosing? I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for taking away the chance for him to live a few more weeks, months, or even years. I could have looked at that ultrasound, I could have seen some proof that I was making the right decision. I wish I never had to make that decision. I always prayed that he would be taken not at my hand. I still haven’t figured out how I am going to live with myself knowing what I had to do to my buddy, my pal, my Poncherillo. Lord why did you have to take him too?