July 25th was the last day I ever saw my husband.
It was the worst day of my life.
It was the only time I ever saw him laying in a hospital bed.
It was around 7:30 at night.
I went into the room and I was there for maybe 60 seconds. I could not believe my eyes, what I was looking at. I cried and touched his forehead and his hair. I told him two things, that I love him and I will take care of our children. Then I left, frantically.
I don't have any regrets about not staying in there longer. Joe was not there anymore to me. That image of him in the bed is one of the things that haunted my mind for months, and it still does at times. I hate that image. I don't have any regrets of not seeing him at the funeral home either. I don't want to have those sights in my mind....I want to remember him alive.
And today, that's what I am going to try to do.
God please take care of my husband.
Joe I love you. I will never stop missing you. I will never stop loving you. Your children will know who you are.