Poker chips, a symbol of luck, winning, and victory. But the day I won them all is the day I lost everything. I had a photo of me with a big smile and a pile of poker chips in front of me. Little did I know that when that picture was being taken my wife was being murdered. I found out an hour later from my friend “Peanut.” He was crying when he told me that my wife Larissa had been shot in the head and was dead. I was devastated.
I sat down deflated, unconsolable. I sat silently and puffed away at my pipe trying to smoke away the reality of her death. But the smoke had little effect on my mind and none on the reality of my circumstances. When the smoke cleared, she was still dead. Nothing was bringing her back. She was gone, forever. My two little girls would grow up motherless. It was tragic. Nothing would make it better. To think I had started the afternoon winning with a pile of poker chips. Now I was lost and bereft. No amount of winning would change a thing period nothing could replace her, she was my life, my world, my soul mate. They say there is someone for everyone, well she was my someone. Now I was lost, drifting, rudderless at sea, with waves of despair threatening to swamp me at any moment.
That was 15 1/2 years ago. Time has dulled the pain. But when I think about that day, I am still struck dumb with the sense of loss I feel. You win, you lose, and hopefully you live to fight on. I live, I fight on, but she does not. I won, she lost, but while I was winning, I lost more than I ever imagined I could. That I live on and hopefully I get the chance to try again and maybe get the chance to win once again. | SL