Too Sudden; Too Young

by Rose Mentone
(Hamden, CT --USA)

He was here; then he was gone. My beloved husband. He got up the morning of October 20, 2009 expecting to go out with me and help me with an errand. He told me that morning that he didn’t feel well; so I told him to stay home. He said no, that he still wanted to help me, so I told him to get dressed. He went in the bathroom, took his insulin, got dressed, and as he came down the hall, I heard him say, “I’m going to pass out.”

I’m yelling in the living room, “No, you’re not.” And down he went. He literally died at my feet, as I dialed 9-1-1. I tried CPR and chest compressions, but to no avail. Our poor dog started barking at him and licking his face, as if she knew he had passed away. I called my sons. We went to the hospital. The doctor asked if we wanted an autopsy. Knowing his struggle with diabetes and heart disease, I shook my head, no. What could they tell us that we didn’t already know? But he was only 63. Isn't that too young to die?

Three months later, I still can’t cope. I met him when I was 14 and he was 16. We dated through high school, and through college. He was my one true love, the only man I ever slept with, the husband and father I truly loved and admired. As we got older, we had the same interests—sports, politics, involvement in the community. His passion was coaching and teaching youngsters how to play baseball. We were involved in many of the same organizations. If he was on a committee, chances were that so was I. We finished each other’s sentences, that’s how close we were.

We always went out together, especially the past few years when his eyesight got so bad that he was afraid to drive; so I became his designated driver. I also had my own health issues with my back and my knees, so he became my legs and I became his eyes. We were married for 38 years. He was my best friend.

I think I’m having a delayed reaction. I’m doing more crying now than I did three months ago. Little things set me off— the words to a song, or a photo, etc. I don’t ever believe that I will ever heal. We had made plans to travel this winter, since we hadn't taken a vacation in a while. He was actually feeling better, even though he was on all sorts of medications for heart irregularities and diabetes. He had so much to live for, I thought.