There is no handbook for how one should feel when they see their soon-to-be-ex-husband on a gurney in the Cardiac ICU with multiple tubes hanging out of him. And the beeping-- THE BEEPING-- it is both nerve-wracking and mind-numbing. Sometimes it stops and you panic, and sometimes it gets louder, and you still panic.
My chest physically ached when I saw him, and I knew in that moment that no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much he had failed me, I couldn't un-love him. I wish I could.
He almost died.
Many difficult conversations happened after that. We had the end-of-life discussion just in case. We met with nutritionists and occupational therapists and home health nurses and respiratory therapists and case workers and and and...
Yesterday was our fourth anniversary. I've spent the last fourteen months grieving him in terms of our marriage. The idea that he could have died without me by his side hit me hard, and that makes no sense. I know. I will spend the rest of the week trying to wrap my head around this.
When I get home tonight my guest room will be empty.
My husband will lay his head down in another town
in another quiet house next to another German Shepherd
with all of his medicine bottles set up on another nightstand.
I will be another woman entirely in a quiet house all on my own.