When do individuals realize that they will develop old together? Is it when they make statements like, “From that minute, I just realized it would have been both of us for the remainder of our lives.” Isn’t it only a remaking sprinkled with pixie dust? When all cards were on the table, or when they definitely knew the outcome? Consider me a pessimist, yet I generally thought so.
Maybe this is on the grounds that I’m an offspring of separated from guardians, however I’ve never had any aptitudes of foreknowledge myself. I don’t have much confidence with regards to foreseeing what’s to come. My deepest desires consistently appear to be something I should mind my own business. I’m concerned I’d curse things. In this way, no, never in my 40 years of living have I contemplated developing old with another person.
Lamentably, I have encountered the flipside. I comprehend what it feels like to get up one morning and know, without a doubt, that you are unquestionably not going to develop old together. Since you, my individual, all of a sudden kicked the bucket in your rest at 34 years old, in our common bed. Much the same as that. You were there, alive, one night and after that you were most certainly not. This disaster had a craving for something that happened to other individuals, individuals you read or watch films about. Be that as it may, not to me.
But it happened, to me and to us. You were the person who passed on, yet I was the one remaining behind with our child kid, who was eight months old at the time. Also, my very first thought after finding you there, in bed, no longer breathing, was this:
I am not going to grow old with you.
You are not going to grow old at all.
Our story ends here, today, and we didn’t even get to say goodbye.
During the weeks that followed, all I could do was simply try and stay upright in order to be there for our baby. In the beginning, everything was minute by minute and after a while, it became hour by hour — anything beyond that was too unbearable even to imagine. I couldn’t stop expressing my regret about our lack of a proper goodbye.