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It Happened So Fast

One minute your beloved is here and the next minute, he’s gone

Edwina Owens Elliott
Crow’s Feet: Life As We Age

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My husband, Phillip W. Elliott Sr. Photo by author

It happened so fucking fast.

On Christmas Day, me and hubby were at home. I’d just finished preparing dinner. And then our world fell apart.

Another call to 911. Another trip to the emergency room. The second time in three months.

And on New Year’s Day, my husband died.

It’s Day 5.

I feel the reality of it hovering all around me, but it hasn’t hit home yet. I still can’t believe it.

I’m a widow.

I find it comforting to munch off the Christmas ham that he never got a chance to taste and wander from room to room, looking out of the windows.

I contemplate. Talk into the silence. And recollect.

Of course, I thought about it happening someday. I even wrote about it. But five years down the line. Ten years down the line.

How could I know we had only a few months?

Less than two weeks ago, we fought about watching movies with the narration on. I never liked it, but he did. It felt as if someone was reading a story to him he said.

Will the emptiness of this big house overwhelm me? When will my new reality sink in?

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