Another year.
Today, 4 years ago on the 4th, my husband Rob died from glioblastoma.
We’d gotten him home from the hospital earlier that day. He was unconscious, and his last words were two days prior. I said I loved him, and he grunted back “I love you”. He was 38. Our daughter had just turned 3. He’d had a few sips of a McDonalds shake that his friend brought a few days earlier. That was his last food.
He was a law clerk and an attorney and so so intelligent! He also loved gaming and watching WWE. He loved animals. He loved our daughter so much and was an amazing father.
He died about 7:20 pm in our bedroom. I was with him, along with his best friend and his parents. I helped the hospice nurse clean him up before the funeral home car arrived. He looked so small and unlike himself in life. So helpless. Everything that made sense in life, was lying there gone forever in our bed. My person. Our daughter’s person. He was only 38.
I don’t remember hearing fireworks, but they go off by our house yearly at a ballpark nearby. I know I’ll see fireworks today. I’ve moved forward, so of course I have plans with my daughter. She doesn’t know her dad died on July 4th.
Goddamn it.