Almost three weeks ago I faced the death of my husband. There had not been any signs that this could come so quickly. We were getting ready for bed. He had just walked into the bathroom to take his shower. I was lying across the bed playing Angry Birds awaiting my turn. Suddenly there was this loud rumbling noise. I thought he had slipped in the shower. As I ran to him, I realized I didn’t hear any water running. When I entered the bathroom, I saw my tall, beautiful husband lying against the shower door gasping for air and in a contorted position.
In that moment
I came face to face with the reality of losing him;
with an empty space that should have been occupied;
with losing my best friend;
with the pain of telling our children and feeling their pain;
with a change in living conditions;
with that question of “what do I do now?”
All in that moment.
I called 911 and did chest compression as best I could in the position he was in. The paramedics arrived and took over. Somewhere after they first assessed him and then moved him to a flat position, he died. As I watched them an amazing calm overcame me. I found myself praying “Lord, if it is his time, I don’t want him to suffer. If it isn’t, please heal him.” After three shocks to his heart, he began to breath again. They quickly moved him to a gurney and then out the door.
I will never forget that moment when it felt time stopped. I encountered myself, death and my faith all clashing into that single point of time. My new journey began in that moment.