I hear crickets in the grass and my dog snoozes on my lap. It’s a quiet night, nearing midnight, and I sit here alone and think. Today, four weeks ago, I was glued to a hospital monitor watching my husband’s inter-cranial pressure climbing to dangerous levels. I held his hand and placed cool cloths on his forehead because it was the only thing I could do. His pain broke my heart. And, although I was afraid, I couldn’t fathom a time when he would cease to be in this world with me.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said to me. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
It was the last thing he told me.
Since then I’ve had some bad days, some terrible days and a few days where I felt some semblance of hope that life might still be worth living. I’ve had wonderful family and friends surround and support me. I’m slowly, slowly, picking myself back up and working my way towards a new life. Sometimes it’s a two steps forward, one step back process but I keep working at it because I want to be the best version of myself. I want to make Brian proud.