You did not die alone.
I held you as you took your last breath.
I called your name as you struggled to survive.
I loved you then, and I love you now.
You died knowing you were loved.
You did not die alone…
~ Linda, Oct 2013
There are some moments in life that are permanently engraved on our brains and in our hearts. For example, if you were alive when Kennedy was shot, you likely remember that exact moment when you heard the news. Or how about 9/11? I can remember the moment I heard the news like it was yesterday. I was standing in my classroom waiting for my first class to arrive… It felt like the very ground beneath my feet had disappeared.
Those were huge events we can all relate to, because these were events shared by millions. But what about our individual “huge events?” What about those moments when our own worlds stopped? For me, that moment is also permanently etched in my mind…
I’ve written about that night many times, but this is about the moment when I knew…
I had no idea where things were headed when I first woke up and heard Bruce struggling. In fact, I was worried he would be upset and tell me I had over-reacted by calling 911. Even as I was doing CPR and waiting for the Emergency Responders to arrive, I kept thinking he would be embarrassed by all the attention… He hated to be the center of attention.
Once the Emergency Responders arrived, I stood outside the bedroom looking in. As I watched them working… I realized what was happening.
They quickly moved Bruce from the bed to the floor just inside the room. There were three men. Two of them worked on Bruce, while the third walked back and forth – asking me questions and giving them directions. I watched as they performed CPR, inserted an epipen into his heart, and finally used the defibrillator paddles…
No matter what they tried, the line on the heart monitor remained flat.
“You know someone is going to die because you know we’re all going to die – you know it in your brain. But then there’s a moment when that truth drops from your brain to your heart, like an elevator in free fall, and lands with a thud.” ~ Rob Bell, How to be Here
I felt as if everything in me was screaming as I watched my worst nightmare unfold before my eyes. I would swear to you, I was screaming this whole time… Screaming his name… Begging him to come back. But in actuality, I didn’t make a sound… Instead, the silence in our house was deafening.
I knew… But I didn’t want to know…
I watched as they looked at each other… Not a word was spoken, but I knew what that look meant… It was resignation… There was nothing more to try… They continued to pump air into his lungs, as they lifted him onto a gurney and moved him to the ambulance. The man who had seemed in charge started cleaning up the trash and debris from their life-saving attempts.
As for me… I just stood there… watching… I knew… But I didn’t want to know…
I remember the man in charge asked if I wanted someone to drive me to the hospital… At first, I said, “No, I can drive myself.” While in my head, I thought, “For goodness sake! Why aren’t they just going already? Why are they cleaning? Why are they taking their time? Why aren’t they rushing to the hospital?”
But… I knew… I knew the answers to all those questions… “Yes… yes, please… Could someone drive me, after all?”
We waited – all of us – until a squad car came to drive me. Then, we all left in a very, quiet procession – no sirens, no racing… Just a quiet, slow drive through town. As I rode in the back of the squad car, I made my first call to my parents. I remember my mouth felt like it was filled with cotton… every piece of me felt numb… surreal…
“Momma? Daddy? It’s me… Linda… I’m on my way to the hospital… I think Bruce died.”
I remember that moment…
You took one last breath…
Your life ended in that moment.
It felt like mine did too.
Now you are beside me always –
Watching me, guiding me…
Still loving me.
And… I remember.
~ Linda, Oct 2013
Each of us dealing with loss can remember the moment we learned our loved one was gone. Their life ended, and for many of us, it felt like ours did too. We all know death is a part of life, but somehow when it happens, we aren’t ready. We know it is real, but we don’t want it to be. Do you remember that moment? Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. *
Who knows… your story may hold hope for someone else.
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