My wife of 22 years came home from five months under medical care on Valentine's Day. The very next Friday, after a beautiful week of rejoicing, of peace, of confidence she was safe at home at last, she died of a massive heart attack.
It was a horror for her to go through and a horror for me to watch, both of us utterly and terrifyingly helpless and she in savage pain until the light went out of her eyes.
We have both been retired for a few years.
Our life together has been pretty much the whole of what there has been of our lives for a long time, now.
Some days I am acutely aware of her absence every minute, and that she will never come home to me, nor I drive to a hospital or SNF to visit and comfort her and love her with all my heart as I have always done, again.
But not every day.
Anyway, not all the time.
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