THE END OF ACT ONE
The alarm clock woke me up, buzzing…why won’t it stop? And where is Tom, and why doesn’t he shut it off? And why is it so far away? I shook the slumber from my body and made my way downstairs to the living room. Well, there’s Tom, facing the back of the couch…something is dreadfully wrong – he’s such a light sleeper – why doesn’t he turn it off? And why is he sleeping down here? In 25 years we had never slept apart. I turned off the alarm and slowly moved toward the couch, with a sick feeling in my gut. I shook him, saying his name, and got no response. I felt his neck for a pulse, and I will never ever forget the sensation of no life; he was a cold as a rock, and stone silent. I grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled him over, only to see the right side of his face as totally purple where the blood had pooled. My first response was to run…and I did. I ran back upstairs and put on street clothes. I then started to panic and ran back downstairs to check him again. I looked at all his body parts, and yes…it was my husband of 25 years. I then grabbed the remote, thinking it was a telephone and dialed 911. Then I threw it against the wall and ran into the other room and found a phone, called 911, and said, “I think my husband is dead”. I only lived two doors from the sheriff, so a policeman was at my door immediately. I couldn’t watch what he was doing…I ran into the next room and kept saying, “is he really gone? Is he really gone?” He was only 47 years old. The policeman didn’t want to respond, and just then the paramedics arrived, who asked if they could “work him”. I told them no – if he’s gone, let him be gone. At that time, they figured he had been dead right around an hour. They were very kind and slowly I was able to go over to the couch and touch him. When the coroner came they left and said they would take him whenever I was ready. Tom was pronounced dead, and in that little town, word spread fast…neighbors and a priest arrived soon, and then I called my brother who notified the rest of my family.
“I never got to tell him good-bye”.
The day before was a fun day. Tom didn’t feel well; but we still went to the park to meet my daughter’s fiance’s family. Tom had always wanted to go to Blue Chip Casino. I hate gambling, but all my brothers and sisters were going, so we went with them. Tom was very excited about going. We went out to eat before boarding the boat, and he didn’t eat very much. He asked me to drive on the way there so he could rest. Once we got on the boat, he started throwing up. We each purchased $20 worth of tokens. I used half of mine and was bored. Something like a voice said to me “give Tom the remaining tokens…you’ll be glad that you did”. I thought this was strange, but I complied…and he enjoyed them! His coloring was terrible, so I drove home. We watched TV for a few minutes, and he said to me, “I’m going to lay here in the recliner for a few minutes; I’ll be up to bed later because I’m having terrible heartburn; maybe if I stay in an upright position it will go away shortly”. I turned and started to go upstairs, but again, something like a voice told me “kiss him goodnight now…you’ll be glad you did”. So I turned around and kissed him and went upstairs to bed and fell asleep. God came for him about four hours later.
That “voice” that I heard was a great comfort to me after his death. It reminded me that God knew what was going to happen. And since He knew, I had to believe that His hand was in this situation, and that He would somehow get me through the rest of my life.
And He has – abundantly!
During that first year, the grief was horrific; my heart was so broken, and I felt that God was a million miles away. I look back on it now and can see that God was with me every day, keeping me from making terrible decisions, even though my prayer life was non-existent except for an endless river of tears. Slowly, with God’s grace I faced the reality of the situation and worked through the grief. Slowly my heart began to thaw after a year, and I began to take baby steps towards a new life.
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oh mom....what to comment.....what a fabulous man my daddy was. i miss him so much. But, it is amazing to me that God took this horrible tragedy and made something beautiful out of it. Beauty from ashes. I often wonder what would have "not" happened had dad still been around. Would Micaiah be here? I often think that probably not 'cause dad would have killed Troy a long time ago. We wouldn't know Greg, or Katie, or Matt. Not sure you would have gone to get your degree 'cause you guys probably wouldn't be in Lafayette. There's so much that he has missed, and yet, some good has come from it. You taught us all so much in that time of grief. You gotta keep getting up in the morning, gotta keep working, gotta keep putting one foot in front of the other. Love you so much mom
ReplyDeleteThank you Chrissy! It's even hard for me to read this; even after 12 years it's still a very sore spot. You're right...SO much has happened since then; I have trouble remembering my "old life" sometimes. But there are days I have such wonderful memories of those days...but my life is cut in half, and your daddy's death is the middle point, the dividing line.
ReplyDeleteWow Mom! I find it interesting that after all the conversations we've had about Dad, we have talked very little about the details of that day. It's so nice to find them out, although it still breaks my heart. I think of Dad every day still. I wonder what he would think of my girls and how I've raised them thus far. I can't smell a woodshop or see a man in flannel without thinking of him. Thanks for posting this, Mom.
ReplyDeleteFor some reason, I'm just now seeing this. I'm at work, so I'm trying so hard not to cry. I miss him so much, especially around this time of year. I miss him when I look at my boys, and I think of all the fun he would have had with them. Like Kim, theres stuff in this note that I didnt know. But I also learned about Gods abundant grace and mercy through dads death. I didnt speak to God for 6 months after, I purposefully ran away from Him. But He took me back anyway. Like Kim, I cant smell wood without thinking of dad. I'll catch a glimpse of him in a stranger sometimes, and it still sucks the breath out of me. Thank you so much for writing this mom. I love you, and thank you for keeping our family together, even though I know its not always easy.
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