My husband died.
It’s been almost three weeks.
One moment he was talking to me, reasoning with me, seeing me.
I watched him walk down the hallway towards our living room.
Not knowing it would be the last time that I would speak to him.
See his legs in motion.
Watch him breathe.
I didn’t get to say goodbye.
Our daughters, sitting just on the other side of a wall, didn’t get to say goodbye.
In an instant, truly an instant, he left us.
He was only 46…
His heart, a heart that was so full of love for me and our girls, ceased in its function.
I don’t know if I should talk about him in the present or past tense.
Present tense…will people think I’m not coping?
Past tense…that’s what society says is correct.
Within four hours of his death I was told by two different people that I wasn’t reacting correctly.
I think people watch too many movies.
Life’s script is not actually created in Hollywood.
My life has been both interesting and horrible.
I don’t know why those that live with me have experienced what they have…childhood cancer and now death.
I feel cursed.
Scared for my children.
Scared for myself.
We miss Man-Farmer.
His quirks, his laughter, his bad dance moves, his popcorn making abilities.
His breath on our necks when giving hugs.
His forehead kisses that he gave all too often.
My husband has died.
Life is currently on pause…