One: “You Were Always on My Mind”

The day started with a call letting me know that your vital signs indicated you were nearing the end. Much to my surprise, in the midst of the pandemic lockdown, they said I could see you one more time. I ran and caught the bus to the hospital. It was like entering the Twilight Zone. That normally hyperactive place was silent, the locked doors mocked by a deadly virus that had already snuck inside.

Suited up with protective gear from head to toe, they led me to your bed. You looked so peaceful. Someone had placed an iPad on your pillow and it was playing your favorite country music including Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson. I had thirty minutes to reminisce about our thirty-three years together. I laughed as I remembered some of the capers we got caught up in. I guess you recalled them as well because the heart monitor occasionally fluttered, chuckling on your behalf.

The time flew by and eventually they signaled me that the time was up. As I gave you a goodbye kiss on your forehead, the sound of Willie Nelson crooning “You were always on my mind” floated out of the iPad. Yes, indeed, you will always be on my mind.

***

Two: 3:15pm

“Hi Ed, this is Becky at the hospital. I’m sorry, but we still have to return Jody’s personal items to you.”

Just a few hours earlier, Becky had called me with the unwanted news that you were now at peace. Your fight against COVID-19 was finished.

Now, late in the afternoon, I headed to the hospital to retrieve the few worldly things you left behind. Outside the locked doors, I called the nurses station to let them know I was there. A few minutes later Becky appeared with a small plastic bag inscribed with your name. Inside was your watch and the ring that matched the one on my finger. I slipped the bag into my jacket pocket and made the journey home.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I remembered that plastic bag. I opened it and took out the ring. I slipped it onto my finger next to my own ring: a reminder of the union of our spirits.

Then, I slid out the watch. I noticed that it had stopped at 3:15 PM. I was taken aback. That was the time that Becky had called me to let me know that you had passed.

Back then, I thought that was the time my world, our world had come to an end. Now, four years later, I see the time on the watch as a new start for both of us. We are still together. You are present guiding me as I work to tell your story and to keep your memory alive. The ring and the watch still stay close with me reminding me of how we loved each other and the life we shared together.