Can you hear me now?

Today, I had to go get a new phone, since mine has been having issues for a while now.

I was changing some of the details of our plan, to lower the monthly payment.  Frankie's line has been suspended since October 18, 2008.  His name is still the main name on the account.  His phone is still the primary number.  His super-secret password is still needed to gain access. 

The guy helping me was super nice,  and we were laughing a lot, and he was newly married in San Diego (same as Frankie and I).  When he started asking questions about the suspended line because it was giving him trouble in making changes to the account and about Frankie, I had to fill him in.  "My husband is deceased.  We suspended his line before he went overseas to Afghanistan. He was killed over there."

He gently asked, "Would you like me to cancel his line? His name will still be on the account, until you provide documentation, but we can remove that line, if you want?"

My stomach started feeling sick, and that question felt so heavy. I mean, why would I not cancel it?  It would make sense to right?  But, why was it making me feel this way?  Maybe because that line signifies in a very small way the joining of our lives together --- What couples do after they get married:  joint phone account, joint bank account, joint e-mail, for us even a joint facebook.
This means that his line no longer exists.  His phone number that we spent countless hours on could belong to someone else.  I can't call him anymore, ever again. 

"Yes.... You can cancel it."

He politely said, "You can leave it on if you would like." I think he saw my light attitude diminish for a second.  

I said, "No, I just haven't had the heart to do it myself, but obviously I don't need it."

It just got me thinking about how much I miss talking to Frankie, hearing his sweet voice and his amazing laugh.  It feels like forever ago since we last talked. We upped our minutes while he was gone from 700 to 1400.  We used them all every month, and sometimes went over.  Now, I only average around 400, if that.

I miss our amazing, deep, funny, loving conversations, about everything.  I miss hearing his voice crack and him trying not to cry over how much he missed me.  Yes, Frankie would cry.  :)  He wasn't the type to hold back how he was truly feeling.  I love that about him. 
I miss my husband.  I just miss him so much.

I will still talk to him minus phone line --- at least we cut costs. :)  
Trying to look at the bright side.  bleh! :(  And the bright side really sucks most times, and is actually pretty dark lately.  

4 years and 3 months baby and 33 minutes! I love you and miss you so much.  Hope to talk to you in my dreams.
Forever yours, B