The nurse came in and slowly moved me away from the bed to check for any sign of life. Without a word she exited the room looking for the doctor on call. He entered with the nurse. They both checked for signs of life.
The doctor slowly turned, looked me in the eye, placed his hand on my right shoulder and said the words with as much compassion as possible, “I’m very sorry. She's gone.” I digested his words and began understanding the depth of our love. My heart didn’t break; it literally shattered into a million pieces. I turned towards Cathey and collapsed into her arms, crying uncontrollably.
Our thirty-year love affair was over.
Postscript: Seven years ago, today, I kissed her for the last time.I appreciate all the heartfelt comments from friends and family. Many tell me how sorry they are for the loss.For me, what would have been worse was hearing about through a text, email or at a reunion that she had died.And then finding out that I passed her house every time I went to Tulsa would have been unbearable. We were given a second chance to finish what we started thirty years ago. For that, I will always be grateful.