What's new

In Honor Of My Departed Love

I am so sorry for your loss. I cannot imagine the pain you must be in.

My wife and I have been married since '07, started dating in '01. Things have been up and down but we have always been there for each other. It was a long time in coming, but 5 months ago we had a baby boy. Our lives and hearts are so full. Our relationship is the strongest it has ever been. The honesty and acceptance and communication are there. We have changed each other for the better in so many ways and I am proud and honored to have her as a partner.
 
Thank you for sharing your story. I read it tonight and it brought tears to my eyes. I will certainly say a prayer for you and Denise.

My wife and I met about 28 years ago in the south of France. We were both there as missionaries for our church, so we didn’t date until we got back to the USA a few months later. We had a whirlwind courtship and were married after dating for only 6 months. Both of our parents thought we were taking things too fast, but 27 years and 4 daughters later we’re still in love. There have certainly been ups and downs, but I tend to remember the highlights and forget about the downs. We have 2 daughters graduating from college this year, daughter three is a freshman in college this year, and only one more year before our youngest moves out which will usher in a new stage of life. As we get older, I certainly recognize some of the health issues you discussed. You offer such a poignant reminder not to take time for granted and to enjoy every day we have with those we love. I believe you’ll see Denise again and it will be a joyful reunion when that day comes.
 
Gentlemen (and ladies),

This is a difficult post for me to write and may be a difficult post to read. I do have a shaving focus, I promise. But to reach the focal point requires some heartache on my part, and perhaps, too, for those who may venture to continue reading. Like many of my posts this is lengthy but I hope it serves more of a purpose than simply a catharsis and a way to begin healing for me.

If the mods consider this improper I will understand. For those who will continue, I beg your gentle forbearance.

A Beautiful Love
I have made mention before on these forums of a woman I referred to as my ‘Abigail Adams’ and ‘Bella’—her true name is Denise. I have known her upward of probably 17 years. In all that time not once did we share a cross word or have an argument of any sort. Ours had been a relationship baptized in trust and mutual respect. She was my best and dearest friend, my great love.

If You Have Your Health, You Have Everything
Denise said this a few times to me, especially in the last 6 months. Nothing new, to be sure. She had been fairly healthy for most of her life until about August of 2019 when her long-standing battle with anxiety attacks, leg pain, and shortness of breath culminated in one afternoon when she could not catch her breath at all—she told her roommate “grab the keys, we’re leaving now!” and she went to the ER.

After being admitted and lots of tests and scans they discovered her heart was only at 10% functionality, and told her she had “severe clogging in her arteries.” She was by no means overweight, actually being under-weight due to what had been an absolute loss of appetite; sounds impossible, but true—she could go two or three days easy without eating, and actually set alarms on her phone to remind her to eat something.

Once they got her set up and IV’d with heaven only knows what and how many bags, ‘lo and behold her appetite returned with a vengeance. She ate in the hospital like food was going out of fashion. In early September a mitroclip was installed over a valve in her heart to improve blood flow—this greatly improved her quality of life, all but vanquishing the panic attacks and gone was the shortness of breath. But then some new kind of pain arrived, a kind of neuropathy it seemed, in her legs.

Almost three months go by and the pain only intensifies, and no one seems to be able to treat it. It was genuinely debilitating, leaving her all but bed-bound—if she took the medication to alleviate the pain it knocked her out, if she didn’t take it, she suffered. So much for improved quality of life.

Eventually she wrestled a referral to a pain management clinic from her cardiac specialist and they gave her a medication that all but instantly dissipated the leg pain. She felt increasingly better and her life began to look up. Then we discovered this medication was likely causing low blood pressure. One episode caused her to pass out and she fell so hard she broke her right foot.

Feb 2020
Received a text from her on the evening of Sat, Feb 1—once again she was having troubles catching her breath. Back to the ER and admitted again. I had somehow contracted a stomach bug and early Sunday morning got my (dehydrated) butt to the ER. I speak to her twice while letting some saline and Pepcin do their magic. She was going to be transferred to the hospital where they did her last procedure and would let me know when that would happen.

That Sunday night she texts:
View attachment 1059871

At 8:18pm she finally calls and we talk for just over a half hour. She's been transferred and been given Ativan to help with her renewed panic attacks. But the surgeon who did her mitroclip implant meets her at the door when the ambulance brings her in. He speaks to her for over a half hour, answering all her questions, telling her he "has to be aggressive" in her treatment and they are going to install three stents to get her back on track. She loves this surgeon and his consultation raises her confidence and hope. Things are finally starting to look up. I feel relief too. I ask her when visiting hours are and she says she's not certain but she'll let me know in the morning.

Monday morning, Feb 3
As promised she sends me a text that morning at 7:01am:
View attachment 1059873

I arrive and get to her room just at about 8:45am only to find out she's not there. "Her blood pressure was low so they transferred her up to ICU so they can closely monitor her." Up to the ICU ward I went.

When I arrived there were probably 6-8 people around her bed. Seemed unusually heavy for just getting someone settled in. I stood out of the way. On the wall next to me were two large monitors displaying the vitals for all patients in that part of the ward--hers had no data in it . . . no flat line, which told me maybe they simply hadn't hooked her up yet. No more than 60 seconds later I her an announcement overhead: "Code Blue, Room 403. All available personnel . . ." I'm not a medical professional but instinct tells me a Code Blue is not a sales special. Staff begin pouring in from everywhere.

Someone asks me, very calmly, to go wait in the waiting area and they would come get me once she was settled.

8:58am
I try calling her daughter to see if she's on the way and to let her know her mother has been transferred to ICU. No answer.

Approximately 9:05am
The hospital chaplain comes out to talk to me. "No need for concern," she says--a veiled diversion, surely. "They're working on her right now and once things are good I will come back out here and get you and take you back to see her." I nod and say thank you.

9:10am
Tried calling her daughter again, still no answer. Sent a text to call me.

Approximately 9:20am
The chaplain arrives again and tells me they're still working on her but she's going to take me back so I can see her while things continue. This is not how this morning was supposed to unravel . . . but unravel it has.

I am allowed to stand along the wall directly opposite her room; there must have been close to 20 people in there. One of the attending doctors comes out and talks to me. I hear him speaking but between all the activity in the room and my spinning brain I don't recall the majority of what he said. At that point they'd been working on her about 20 minutes. I feel the chaplains hand gently stroking my right arm.

I was strangely calm. One of the staff were asking me about her medical history, would she approve of resuscitation. "If she knew there was hope for improved quality of life, yes" I tell her. I watch, straining to catch any view of my Bella between the blue and grey scrubs. The chaplain's hand never leaves my arm.

Then, the organized bedlam of activity trickled to a mere whisper of movement. I knew in that moment I had to begin accepting the inevitable. Moments later the surgeon she had so loved was standing before me explaining what had happened. Sepsis, not heart failure, which had been the overarching concern up til now. Sepsis had probably caused her blood pressure to drop about 10 points throwing her heart into arrhythmia. While they had begun setting her up in ICU the heart stopped. By then the sepsis had done enough damage to internal organs that even if she had been brought back it wouldn't have mattered much.

Minutes later I am bedside, holding her still warm hand and fighting like hell to keep it together in front of the chaplain. At 9:37am I finally get her daughter to pick up the phone and have to break the news. As I set the phone down, I gently grasp Denise's hand and crumple against her chest. Even as I write this my hands shake, it's actual work to stroke the proper keys. My breath keeps catching.

Angels & Demons
The prior Sunday I hadn't shaved because I went into the ER myself. Although I am a daily shaver I just didn't feel up to it that morning before going, so I had a nice bit of stubble for Monday morning. I was excited to see Denise, hopeful to buoy her spirits (and mine). I wanted a really close shave with a nice scent she'd like, so I pulled out my Conk Major razor (an aggressive one for sure) with an Astra SP and used Lakewood Coquette, a really fresh scent with red raspberry, grapefruit, and a touch of rose. Got the sweet BBS I was hoping for and finished it off with the matching Coquette balm. A nice, clean, angelic scent for visiting my mortal angel.

As you now know that angel was recalled. In the aftermath of her passing I have found the last couple of days shaving to be bland, non-eventful. Yesterday was almost pointless, a true going-through-the-motions and a weak 2-pass shave. I don't even remember which brush or soap I used, and that's unusual for me.

This morning's shave was better, if only because I forced myself to focus and dial in on every part of the process. Put a new Personna Red in the Merkur 38C and used my Yaqi badger with WSP Matterhorn. Difficult to maintain focus and embrace the ritual. Midway through the second pass I remembered moments of kissing her forehead and stroking her cheek, and summarily lost it again. Razor carefully set aside, hands bracing against the vanity, I rode it out. Took a quick look in the mirror and told myself to focus on the shave . . . I can grieve all I want later, but just let the process work.

I am most certain my daily shaving ritual will, in its own way, help ease me along. I used to look forward each afternoon to making the selection for the following morning's shave, but that small joy eludes me at the moment. Focus, just shave. Demons come and go, but love stays resident.

A Request, If I May . . .
I know, this post has been a stark departure from the norm. But I believe there is value is separating the hardware from the software, the tools of our trade from the soft machines they work upon. We have Badger & Blade to support our habit. We have our wives and SO’s to help support our hearts. If not for this post, then perhaps for Valentine's Day, I'd like to see stories of love gone right, of the ladies (or gents) who fill the hours between our shaves and enrich us outside this grooming ritual.

And now I hope that each time I use Coquette I am softly reminded of the shave I had the morning I lost my heart, because that shave, and her--both were beautiful.


I am so sorry for your loss. Reading this I'm having problems typing. Have tears running down my face. Instantly taken back to the one man in my life that always uplifted me and never tore me down, my grandfather and being in the ICU while everyone was working on him. He passed on jan 3 2016. He and god choose that day because it is my fiance's birthday. It has allowed me to have something else to focus on than how much I miss him. I'm reminded of my brother who was killed by someone texting and driving jan 14 2018. My nephew who had an asthma attack and passed may 25 2018. My adopted father who after loosing my brother couldn't handle it and drank himself to death. Passed november 15 2019. Reminded of all the times I almost lost my fiance because of her alcohol addiction. She just hit 7 months of sobriety. But it was to the point I wasn't expecting to have another year with her. My heart goes out to you. You will be in my prayers. I cant even imagine loosing my fiance as she is my world. I cant imagine what you are going through. I know it is worse than myself. I myself when I lost my adopted father took to shaving as a way to have a sense of normality and it did help me. I started wet shaving because I like the history in it. I never would have guessed this hobby would have such a profound impact on such a deeper lever in myself. When I am stressed like today all I could think about was wanting to get my straight and get in the bathroom turn on music and shave. I really hope you stay active on here or with friends and family. You dont want to have depression destroy you and believe me it can destroy you. I have the physical scars to prove it.
 
Jeff,

I grieve with you, brother, because I experienced the same loss, last year. There are no words to describe how it feels to suffer such sorrow. But, I take comfort in the knowledge that she and I will meet again, one day.

I know that Denise is waiting for you, too. Until then, carry her in your heart and she will never truly be gone.

Derrick
 
Last edited:
I believe you’ll see Denise again and it will be a joyful reunion when that day comes.
I'm certain you can imagine how very much I pray you are right. She is now an eternity apart from me, but to have Eternity with her would be the greatest example of limitless, unbounded joy for me. Thank you for your thoughts and for sharing your own story.
 
I rarely share personal things but in this case will make an exception.
Camo, your story, your actions, speak volumes to me about what genuine romance and deep, true love are. Within our shaving community here people share their experience and opinion, their failures and their wisdom, and this in turn helps many who come here. But to hold out your heart for another to either accept or refuse is a matter far more dangerous yet no less vitally important . . .to take your wife's heart and gently hold it, protect and cherish it is the kind of stuff that binds us all in the best possible way and makes our world a better place, one graceful stroke of love at a time.

Thank you very much for sharing something so personal.
 
Jeff,

I grieve with you, brother, because I experienced the same loss, last year. There are no words to describe how it feels to suffer such sorrow. But, I take comfort in the knowledge that she and I will meet again, one day.

I know that Denise is waiting for you, too. Until then, carry her in your heart and she will never truly be gone.

Derrick
Thank you Derrick for your kindness. I told Denise many times that her presence in my life, how she quietly yet unquestionably influenced my life and my heart made me a better man. I am of inestimable hope that she is waiting for me and will one day greet me with something like "What the $%#! took you so long?" That would be so like her. Just hearing her say that in my mind makes me smile for a moment.
 
I am so sorry for your loss. Reading this I'm having problems typing. Have tears running down my face. Instantly taken back to the one man in my life that always uplifted me and never tore me down, my grandfather and being in the ICU while everyone was working on him. He passed on jan 3 2016. He and god choose that day because it is my fiance's birthday. It has allowed me to have something else to focus on than how much I miss him. I'm reminded of my brother who was killed by someone texting and driving jan 14 2018. My nephew who had an asthma attack and passed may 25 2018. My adopted father who after loosing my brother couldn't handle it and drank himself to death. Passed november 15 2019. Reminded of all the times I almost lost my fiance because of her alcohol addiction. She just hit 7 months of sobriety. But it was to the point I wasn't expecting to have another year with her. My heart goes out to you. You will be in my prayers. I cant even imagine loosing my fiance as she is my world. I cant imagine what you are going through. I know it is worse than myself. I myself when I lost my adopted father took to shaving as a way to have a sense of normality and it did help me. I started wet shaving because I like the history in it. I never would have guessed this hobby would have such a profound impact on such a deeper lever in myself. When I am stressed like today all I could think about was wanting to get my straight and get in the bathroom turn on music and shave. I really hope you stay active on here or with friends and family. You dont want to have depression destroy you and believe me it can destroy you. I have the physical scars to prove it.
David, my memories of Denise are only positive--we never argued, not because one was more dominant or submissive than the other but rather because we both carried an ironclad, truthful respect for one another and were honest with each other. Those positive memories can't stop me from grieving and, in fact, to a degree feed it. But I don't believe I will allow myself to be subsumed by my grief. She meant too much to me to allow something like that to tarnish her halo.

I am deeply grateful that you, courageously, opened a vein and let your thoughts flow despite how utterly ravaging they surely must be. I am touched you would share such things in support of a complete stranger. I hope your fiance understands your heart. Keep loving her, David. Cherish her like nothing else, for she is like nothing else.
 
We have changed each other for the better in so many ways and I am proud and honored to have her as a partner.
This, deadcruiser . . . this is what I believe solidifies foundations and improves us all one life at a time. I was equally proud to have Denise as my great love and dearest friend and confidante. I truly hope your child continues to strengthen your bond and love for one another. Thank you for sharing your story.
 
Thank you for sharing your story. Truly heartbreaking. However, the love you shared is also uplifting. My heart goes out to you....white light and prayers for your healing.
My heartfelt gratitude for your thoughts and prayers. I hope to feel her white light soon wrapping me in her sweet presence.
 

Graydog

Biblical Innards
Jeff, Thank you for sharing your thoughts and memories with me. It was a tearful read for me
and really brings Life and Love into focus.
My wife of 42 years and I recently went through a
Medical issue for a lump on her neck.
Waiting for the biopsy and then waiting for the test results was very painful for me, thinking about the what ifs and trying to focus on the positive . The test results came back and the news was good what ever the lump is it is benign . We have to go back to the doctor on Monday and see what happens now.
My Prayers go up for you.
 
Thank you, Steve, for sharing such a personal event. I can dare imagine there isn't a person on this page who hasn't been affected in some similar way to you and your wife's. The outpouring of support here for myself and Denise has staggered my mind and reduced me to occasional tears. I am ever so grateful to you and all the others who have opened up and given of their time and hearts.

I am truly heartened to read your wife's tests came back as benign. Hold her and lavish love upon her.
 
David, my memories of Denise are only positive--we never argued, not because one was more dominant or submissive than the other but rather because we both carried an ironclad, truthful respect for one another and were honest with each other. Those positive memories can't stop me from grieving and, in fact, to a degree feed it. But I don't believe I will allow myself to be subsumed by my grief. She meant too much to me to allow something like that to tarnish her halo.

I am deeply grateful that you, courageously, opened a vein and let your thoughts flow despite how utterly ravaging they surely must be. I am touched you would share such things in support of a complete stranger. I hope your fiance understands your heart. Keep loving her, David. Cherish her like nothing else, for she is like nothing else.


I completely agree. She is like nothing else. And I cherish every single moment I get with her. The only time her and I argued and fought was when I took her alcohol away. It's for the same reason. We both have a level ground. When there is a problem we talk. No one gets mad. I never knew a relationship could be like this and I will never give that up.

I'm glad you will not let the pain tarnish the good. I know it's hard but stay strong.
 
My condolences. Very hard to lose someone you love, whenever it happens.

My mother lives with me, and is 96. We've been shuffling in and out of rehab and the ER for the last two weeks, and I'm not sure she's going to be able to move back home, she needs too much care to be alone all day and I'm not retired yet. Gonna be awfully quiet around here without her.
 
Thank you, Fred. Sounds like she has lived a very long, and likely a very productive and full life. Losing Denise has been akin to pouring out my heart on a hot sidewalk and watching it vaporize before my eyes. The emptiness I have after her loss has not granted me any measure of quiet, but I know, with time, that will come. Tomorrow will be exactly one week since she passed and I know I will be reliving each sanguine morning hour.

I hope your remaining time with your mother allows for some measure of peace in preparation for the end when it comes. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment.
 
I'm sorry to hear of your loss.

My younger brother died around six years ago, just shy of his fortieth birthday. A couple of weeks afterwards my wife told me she'd had a dream that he was peaceful and happy, and the following night I did. I saw us as teenagers, sitting laughing by a river, with no worries in the world. I honestly believe he - or the universe - was letting me know that he's in a good place, and not to grieve. Of course, it took me years not to grieve him, but now I'm able to say I loved him when we were together, and now I treasure his memory but my focus is on looking forward.
 
Gentlemen (and ladies),

This is a difficult post for me to write and may be a difficult post to read. I do have a shaving focus, I promise. But to reach the focal point requires some heartache on my part, and perhaps, too, for those who may venture to continue reading. Like many of my posts this is lengthy but I hope it serves more of a purpose than simply a catharsis and a way to begin healing for me.

If the mods consider this improper I will understand. For those who will continue, I beg your gentle forbearance.

A Beautiful Love
I have made mention before on these forums of a woman I referred to as my ‘Abigail Adams’ and ‘Bella’—her true name is Denise. I have known her upward of probably 17 years. In all that time not once did we share a cross word or have an argument of any sort. Ours had been a relationship baptized in trust and mutual respect. She was my best and dearest friend, my great love.

If You Have Your Health, You Have Everything
Denise said this a few times to me, especially in the last 6 months. Nothing new, to be sure. She had been fairly healthy for most of her life until about August of 2019 when her long-standing battle with anxiety attacks, leg pain, and shortness of breath culminated in one afternoon when she could not catch her breath at all—she told her roommate “grab the keys, we’re leaving now!” and she went to the ER.

After being admitted and lots of tests and scans they discovered her heart was only at 10% functionality, and told her she had “severe clogging in her arteries.” She was by no means overweight, actually being under-weight due to what had been an absolute loss of appetite; sounds impossible, but true—she could go two or three days easy without eating, and actually set alarms on her phone to remind her to eat something.

Once they got her set up and IV’d with heaven only knows what and how many bags, ‘lo and behold her appetite returned with a vengeance. She ate in the hospital like food was going out of fashion. In early September a mitroclip was installed over a valve in her heart to improve blood flow—this greatly improved her quality of life, all but vanquishing the panic attacks and gone was the shortness of breath. But then some new kind of pain arrived, a kind of neuropathy it seemed, in her legs.

Almost three months go by and the pain only intensifies, and no one seems to be able to treat it. It was genuinely debilitating, leaving her all but bed-bound—if she took the medication to alleviate the pain it knocked her out, if she didn’t take it, she suffered. So much for improved quality of life.

Eventually she wrestled a referral to a pain management clinic from her cardiac specialist and they gave her a medication that all but instantly dissipated the leg pain. She felt increasingly better and her life began to look up. Then we discovered this medication was likely causing low blood pressure. One episode caused her to pass out and she fell so hard she broke her right foot.

Feb 2020
Received a text from her on the evening of Sat, Feb 1—once again she was having troubles catching her breath. Back to the ER and admitted again. I had somehow contracted a stomach bug and early Sunday morning got my (dehydrated) butt to the ER. I speak to her twice while letting some saline and Pepcin do their magic. She was going to be transferred to the hospital where they did her last procedure and would let me know when that would happen.

That Sunday night she texts:
View attachment 1059871

At 8:18pm she finally calls and we talk for just over a half hour. She's been transferred and been given Ativan to help with her renewed panic attacks. But the surgeon who did her mitroclip implant meets her at the door when the ambulance brings her in. He speaks to her for over a half hour, answering all her questions, telling her he "has to be aggressive" in her treatment and they are going to install three stents to get her back on track. She loves this surgeon and his consultation raises her confidence and hope. Things are finally starting to look up. I feel relief too. I ask her when visiting hours are and she says she's not certain but she'll let me know in the morning.

Monday morning, Feb 3
As promised she sends me a text that morning at 7:01am:
View attachment 1059873

I arrive and get to her room just at about 8:45am only to find out she's not there. "Her blood pressure was low so they transferred her up to ICU so they can closely monitor her." Up to the ICU ward I went.

When I arrived there were probably 6-8 people around her bed. Seemed unusually heavy for just getting someone settled in. I stood out of the way. On the wall next to me were two large monitors displaying the vitals for all patients in that part of the ward--hers had no data in it . . . no flat line, which told me maybe they simply hadn't hooked her up yet. No more than 60 seconds later I her an announcement overhead: "Code Blue, Room 403. All available personnel . . ." I'm not a medical professional but instinct tells me a Code Blue is not a sales special. Staff begin pouring in from everywhere.

Someone asks me, very calmly, to go wait in the waiting area and they would come get me once she was settled.

8:58am
I try calling her daughter to see if she's on the way and to let her know her mother has been transferred to ICU. No answer.

Approximately 9:05am
The hospital chaplain comes out to talk to me. "No need for concern," she says--a veiled diversion, surely. "They're working on her right now and once things are good I will come back out here and get you and take you back to see her." I nod and say thank you.

9:10am
Tried calling her daughter again, still no answer. Sent a text to call me.

Approximately 9:20am
The chaplain arrives again and tells me they're still working on her but she's going to take me back so I can see her while things continue. This is not how this morning was supposed to unravel . . . but unravel it has.

I am allowed to stand along the wall directly opposite her room; there must have been close to 20 people in there. One of the attending doctors comes out and talks to me. I hear him speaking but between all the activity in the room and my spinning brain I don't recall the majority of what he said. At that point they'd been working on her about 20 minutes. I feel the chaplains hand gently stroking my right arm.

I was strangely calm. One of the staff were asking me about her medical history, would she approve of resuscitation. "If she knew there was hope for improved quality of life, yes" I tell her. I watch, straining to catch any view of my Bella between the blue and grey scrubs. The chaplain's hand never leaves my arm.

Then, the organized bedlam of activity trickled to a mere whisper of movement. I knew in that moment I had to begin accepting the inevitable. Moments later the surgeon she had so loved was standing before me explaining what had happened. Sepsis, not heart failure, which had been the overarching concern up til now. Sepsis had probably caused her blood pressure to drop about 10 points throwing her heart into arrhythmia. While they had begun setting her up in ICU the heart stopped. By then the sepsis had done enough damage to internal organs that even if she had been brought back it wouldn't have mattered much.

Minutes later I am bedside, holding her still warm hand and fighting like hell to keep it together in front of the chaplain. At 9:37am I finally get her daughter to pick up the phone and have to break the news. As I set the phone down, I gently grasp Denise's hand and crumple against her chest. Even as I write this my hands shake, it's actual work to stroke the proper keys. My breath keeps catching.

Angels & Demons
The prior Sunday I hadn't shaved because I went into the ER myself. Although I am a daily shaver I just didn't feel up to it that morning before going, so I had a nice bit of stubble for Monday morning. I was excited to see Denise, hopeful to buoy her spirits (and mine). I wanted a really close shave with a nice scent she'd like, so I pulled out my Conk Major razor (an aggressive one for sure) with an Astra SP and used Lakewood Coquette, a really fresh scent with red raspberry, grapefruit, and a touch of rose. Got the sweet BBS I was hoping for and finished it off with the matching Coquette balm. A nice, clean, angelic scent for visiting my mortal angel.

As you now know that angel was recalled. In the aftermath of her passing I have found the last couple of days shaving to be bland, non-eventful. Yesterday was almost pointless, a true going-through-the-motions and a weak 2-pass shave. I don't even remember which brush or soap I used, and that's unusual for me.

This morning's shave was better, if only because I forced myself to focus and dial in on every part of the process. Put a new Personna Red in the Merkur 38C and used my Yaqi badger with WSP Matterhorn. Difficult to maintain focus and embrace the ritual. Midway through the second pass I remembered moments of kissing her forehead and stroking her cheek, and summarily lost it again. Razor carefully set aside, hands bracing against the vanity, I rode it out. Took a quick look in the mirror and told myself to focus on the shave . . . I can grieve all I want later, but just let the process work.

I am most certain my daily shaving ritual will, in its own way, help ease me along. I used to look forward each afternoon to making the selection for the following morning's shave, but that small joy eludes me at the moment. Focus, just shave. Demons come and go, but love stays resident.

A Request, If I May . . .
I know, this post has been a stark departure from the norm. But I believe there is value is separating the hardware from the software, the tools of our trade from the soft machines they work upon. We have Badger & Blade to support our habit. We have our wives and SO’s to help support our hearts. If not for this post, then perhaps for Valentine's Day, I'd like to see stories of love gone right, of the ladies (or gents) who fill the hours between our shaves and enrich us outside this grooming ritual.

And now I hope that each time I use Coquette I am softly reminded of the shave I had the morning I lost my heart, because that shave, and her--both were beautiful.

My God these were beautiful words. My heart goes out to you, friend.
 
This thread turns my day around every time it pops up in my alerts. Things are a bit rough in my life right now. Nothing that is not common to man, but hard none the less. No matter how bad my day is going, this thread reminds me of my love for my wife and the fact that what ever we are going through, we are facing it together. And that makes me feel like a fool for pouting about my problems.

Reply was meant to be a positive one. Not sure it really came off that way, but that was my intention, I assure you. The blessing that this thread is to me, is in a certain way indicative of how special/far reaching this love the OP speaks of is.
 
This thread turns my day around every time it pops up in my alerts. Things are a bit rough in my life right now. Nothing that is not common to man, but hard none the less. No matter how bad my day is going, this thread reminds me of my love for my wife and the fact that what ever we are going through, we are facing it together. And that makes me feel like a fool for pouting about my problems.

Reply was meant to be a positive one. Not sure it really came off that way, but that was my intention, I assure you. The blessing that this thread is to me, is in a certain way indicative of how special/far reaching this love the OP speaks of is.
Agree wholeheartedly, this is one that lightens my load every time it pops up in alerts.
 
Top Bottom