We had almost been married 20 years, actually 3 weeks shy of that. He hadn’t come home that night so when I awoke in the morning I knew something was off. Not just that he wasn’t at home, but something more. Something more like gone. When the police showed up around 8:30 in the morning to tell me I actually wasn’t surprised. I guess in a weird way I knew, I even heard a voice say at the time say in my head “that this would be hard, but I would get through it” He’s dead, not coming home and not just late. Granted this happened six years ago but I guess now feels like the time to step back and talk about it.
He was found outside of a bar in the north part of town. The young officer who found him was too new to realize that he was already gone. So they did CPR and life flight and three and one half hours in the ER trying to bring him back. But the truth is he had already left. I was in shock for about forty eight hours after I was notified. I remember that first night sleeping with his telephone and wallet, two things I knew he’d never be without if he had been alive. When I awoke the next morning I knew it was different and not in the good way! I had decided that I was going to hold the voice that I heard in my head the day before to the notion that this would be hard but I would get through it. Maybe I’m still not or I wouldn’t have started writing about my journey now of six years later. I’m still not through it, I miss him, but glad he’s gone. I don’t want the life I’ve been given right now because the struggle is wearing me out! I’m tired of fighting my way this thing that I’ve been left with. Ready to be settled….