themilf

1 Story, 29 Followers, 1 Following

AboutWorksFollowingLists

About themilf

11 years ago. Friday the 13th of July 2001, a day that I'll never forget. A day that would forever change the way I looked at unlucky days! We'd gone briefly to happy hour and wandered down the cobblestone street talking for hours. And He asked me to marry him. One knee, hand in hand, Ring in a box in his pocket... He asked me. It was kind of moot but incredible just the same. Moot because just the week before while on vacation, we'd started to look at houses. Houses. Homes. A home big enough for my 3 children, his 1 son. We kissed in the kitchen and danced around the dining room of this beautiful 5 bedroom, 2 story home. We pictured the kids playing with their video games in the huge game room on the second floor, imagined the sounds of laughter coming from the expansive back yard. We whispered sweet nothings into the intercom and resisted tarnishing the master suite of this beautiful display home. I've never cared for the color yellow yet the bright, beautiful color of the breakfast room reflected our future together, nothing but sunny. We weren't living together yet specifically because of the kids. And it was because of a commitment to his son and God Bless Them, the Boy Scouts of America, he was obligated much of the next day and our contact and conversation was limited. On Sunday mornings, we'd always chat on the phone before he'd strap on his rollerblades and repeatedly traverse the 5 mile circuit around a local park and this day was no different. He called and since it was getting warm outside, we chatted very briefly, he'd call me when he was finished and on his way home. The phone rang as I was pulling a load of laundry out of the dryer. My heart always leapt when I'd hear his voice and although it was the second time today, it was no different. But HE sounded different. He'd mentioned he'd enjoyed pepperoni pizza the evening before the the Boy Scouts following a day tending to a landscaping project, the Eagle Scout project he spearheaded. And now he mentioned... chest pains. What? "Chest Pains, Babe but I'm sure it's nothing". Nothing? "Tell you what, why don't you call 911, just to make ME happy". "Nah", he said "The house is just about a mile from here, I think I'll drive home, chew a couple of tums and see how I feel". But he wasn't... convincing. And HE started to sound scared. So I played the "if you loved me, you would" card. "If you LOVED me, you'd call 911 and put my mind at ease". He was about 45 minutes away from me and I was waiting for my kids to return from the weekend with their Dad who I assure you was NOT going to be flexible to meet MY needs in this instance. And the kids were not yet old enough to be left alone should they return home now. And really at this point, there was no real cause for alarm. And I repeated myself "If you REALLY LOVE ME, you'll call 911... they can evaluate you, if you NEED to go to the hospital, they'll take you and if they don't think you NEED to go, you can go home and shower, chew your tums and I'll see you this afternoon". "All right, all right, I'll call 911, I love you Babe, I'll be fine, I'll call 911". And he hung up. I wasn't completely convinced he was really going to do it but I said a quick prayer and matched a couple pair of socks. And waited. I'm sure I didn't wait more than 5 minutes before I called back to him and there was no answer. Called every two or three minutes and it would ring and ring but it was that rinnnngbeep that indicated the person was on the other line. Apparently the EMT's were attempting to pinpoint his exact location in the park and were keeping him on the phone. And the next time I called, it went straight to voicemail. The paramedics had him turn off his phone. And I'm now feverishly pairing socks amd really, really hoping this is just a bad case of indigestion and trying to reach the kids' dad who does not yet have a cell phone, still refuses to carry one because he tells me, it's none of my business where he is. Minutes pass and I cannot wait to tease him about his emergency case of gastrointestinal distress. And he still doesn't answer his phone. And I think "I promise to buy him the biggest bottle of tums if he will just call". By this time, I've called my sister and she's worrying right along side me, the difference being she's much more of an alarmist than I am. She suggests we call the Fire Department for that area to see if they've reached him, brilliant idea. This is maybe pre-HIPPA rules or if it's not, she was very convincing. She reaches someone who tells her when they got to him he was conscious and alert (of course :D) but his blood pressure was alarmingly low. Now what would cause that? So they were taking him to the nearest hospital. I think I recall it's a trauma center but not the greatest reputation and in a heartwrenching twist, years previously, his 2 year old son was pronounced dead there after choking at the kitchen table on a freaking hotdog. That was likely the cause of his failed marriage, she blamed him for not being there to perform the heimlich maneuver and cpr, he blamed her for having a couple of beers with lunch. I blame no one because they've both been through enough. Unbelievably enough, the guy at the admitting desk at the ER continued to give us updates by phone. His BP continues to be low and he's being evaluated, they're calling in a cardiologist. Who in turn calls in a thoracic surgeon. Dear God, it's not indigestion, it's not even a heart attack. It's an abdominal aortic aneurysm and it's ruptured. He's 40 years old, his mother died on her way to surgery for an AAA and here he is awaiting a cardiothoracic surgeon to perform the very same surgery his mother was to have. I don't know where in God's name this surgeon is but it takes much too long to get to the hospital. Much too long when he holds in his hands the heart of the love of my life and the future of not just Him but that of His surviving son and myelf and my kids and really that doesn't matter, I just want him to live. Surgery takes hours. Hours and hours and hours. Many updates from the OR and the surgery is finished, now they just have to wean him from the heart/lung machine that's been keeping him alive throughout the surgery. First try, no good...they have to put him back on and second try, still no good. Third try is apparently the last attempt and.. it just wont happen, he can't survive without the assistance of the machine, he is effectively gone and the decision must be made. To turn off the machine. The man I loved so completely, who captured not just my heart but my mind and my very soul quietly slipped away from me. Along with all of these incredible dreams of an infinite future together, the promise of a wonderful life with a beautiful blended family, my sunny yellow kitchen and the kids laughing together. He was simply the most incredible man I've ever met, the most pure of heart, honest and hard working, loving and beautiful spirit and he was going to be mine. And he was gone. What followed was the most incredible silence I've ever experienced punctuated only by absolute heartbreaking sobs that simply wouldn't stop. And which return this evening with a vengeance. Because after 11 years it feels like it was just yesterday... but I've suppressed so much for so long just to preserve my feelings, my heart and maybe, just maybe a bit of my sanity. And it wasn't until the NEXT day that I saw the email he'd sent me Saturday night following the pizza party, the night before he died which read in part: "My dear, dear Love; Leaving you last night was one of the hardest things I've ever faced. I thought I would sleep good last night, but I woke several times. I was so happy, I think it was my subconscience waking me just so I could think about how wonderful you are, and making sure it was reality and not a dream. Babe, I know now that I have found my true Soul mate and that is you. I will never ever leave you. I will be spending the rest of my life with you." This is the first time in YEARS that I've read that email. And I can remember thinking at the time as I do now... This does NOT happen in real life... Ahhh...but it does, it certainly does. This one's for you Scott, where ever you are. You my love, were one in a million. One in a million.

Location: midwest

Statistic

Member since: 17 Years Ago

Updated: A Long Time Ago

Story: 1

Followers: 29

Following: 1

My favorites: 1

My comments: 1