My husband died a week ago this afternoon.
He'd been "declining," as they say, since his first bout of pneumonia, back in October. He never was able to completely shake that.
He wanted to be home, and I was able to give him that. He also waited till my mom was here with me, and until she and I had gone out for a while, leaving him here with a good friend and neighbor. I guess he didn't want me to witness his last breaths.
We had a ceremony at the graveyard way up in the woods, away from traffic noises; the same place we got married almost 12 years ago. I know he loved that place. It was where he'd go to meditate. It's springtime in Kentucky, a time he loved, when the trees begin getting baby-green leaves and flowers --anonymous till I named them for him-- begin blooming. It was two days before the 15-year anniversary of his mother's death, and we lost three cousins that week too. I guess the pull from the other side is strong on this family this time of year.
Adjustment is going to take a while. Though the past three years I've been as much hopeful as I've been in mourning, this is still an awful shock to my system. Lucky for me I have more friends than I realized.
Rest in Peace, my beloved, my soulmate; Bob Sloan: May 31 1947 - April 17 2013