Wednesday, November 24, 2021

9 years.

I woke up at 4.11am this morning. It was around the same time 9 years ago that I received a phone call from the ICU at the hospital. The message was to come in, things weren't going too well. 

Between home and the hospital is a distance of 10 minutes. 

When I got to the hospital I pleaded to go through the emergency department to get to the ICU. They didn't allow it so I had to walk another 5 minutes, the long way round, to the ICU.  

Sometime during those 15 minutes, Larry slipped away. 

I was met at the secured door of the ICU by his nurse who hugged me before she told me he was gone. She walked me to his room where he just looked like he was sleeping. 

I asked her to leave me alone and sat next to him. He was still warm. He was still warm two hours later when the undertakers came.

We celebrate Larry twice a year. On his birthday and when he died, which is Thanksgiving week. We remember him always. Our kids who came years after he died know him. He is a constant in our family conversations and is always on my mind.

9 years. We've adjusted to life without you, but you are much too loved to be forgotten.

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