My only husband died from a stroke in May of 2018. We were two weeks away from 27 years of being together. It was love at first sight for both of us. Two weeks after we met he told me “Quit your job and move in with me.” And I did. Joyfully. He was the most beautiful person I have ever known. He rocked my world from the moment we met. He was artistic, witty, intelligent and brave. He was a good father to our four beautiful sons, and a great son in law to my Mom. We had a fantastic sex life. He called me his “one true love”, and not a day went by he didn’t hold me in his arms to tell me so. He and I were artists, creating beauty together, playing to one another’s strengths and running our business happily.
His stroke was not painless. It was agony for him. The worst moment of my entire life was after I had rushed out of bed to turn on the light. His thrashing had woken me. The instant I saw him, I knew. He was groaning, trying to sit up, but sliding off the bed. The ambulance came in less than 15 minutes. The first day he could still speak some. His last words to me were, “I love you”. The anti-clotting drugs didn’t work. As the hours passed he slipped further away. On the 3rd day in ICU it was clear the damage was so profound there was no hope for recovery. We had always promised to advocate for each other, and so I did. I signed a DNR order and he was given palliative care. Three days later I held him as he died. My heart broke. I am so glad I could be there with him. It’s awful to think of covid victims and their loved ones who were denied that final grace.
He was my first husband, my last husband, my only. I have no desire to marry again, why would I? We had the best. I loved him with every fiber of my being and felt that love returned. We had everything I always dreamed of, sex, romance, art, travel, a home, a family. I consider myself one of the luckiest women ever. I had something you probably never will and obviously you don’t deserve.
Try to understand this, Aquagirl, if you possibly can. Horoscopes are bullshit. Poppycock. Crappola. Nonsense. Rubbish. Balderdash. Baloney. A waste of time. The scientific community utterly rejects astrology. I don’t need a horoscope to know everything pertinent about you. Only a petty, repulsive, immature, nasty little baggage would tell a widow that she is glad her husband died, because she poked fun at your asinine belief in astrology. Your hateful words don’t hurt me. I already live each moment with the pain of losing him and with the happiness of having had him as my husband.