Close Curtain
Today, the most precious person in my life died of a heart attack at the age of 53. Bran Everseeking, Thomas Hugh Dunbar, died just 5 days after turning 53. Despite the efforts of the cadiac care team at Royal University Hospital, Thomas went into cardiac arrest and was declared dead shortly after.
I got to see him after he died. I told him how much Boy and I loved him. I prayed that he hold tight to his path, because that will always be the right direction.
And now I’m lost. I don’t know where to turn. We were supposed to get old together. We were supposed to hold hands and shake our respective canes at the kids on the lawn. He wasn’t supposed to die.
But he did.
Boy and I will continue on together. We will miss this light that shone so brightly in our lives.
Farewell, my love.
February 28th, 2013 at 5:41 pm
Oh I am so so sorry.
Thank you.
February 28th, 2013 at 6:23 pm
I am SO sorry to hear this. I’ve been reading for many years and am truly saddened. My condolences to you and Boy.
Thank you, Jenni. It’s been very hard.
March 1st, 2013 at 5:33 am
I am very sorry to read this. My sympathies and condolences to you and Boy.
Thank you, Jan. I appreciate your kind support.
March 3rd, 2013 at 9:40 pm
I’m thinking of you. Every day since he died you and Boy come to my mind. My heart is saddened for your loss. Blessed be.
Thank you, Java. It’s been so very hard and is a struggle. I know that somehow I’ll manage, but I profoundly resent that I have to.
March 13th, 2013 at 8:22 am
For the past two years I have neglected, not only my own blog, but those that are written by the people who followed mine.
I found that, as I returned and slowly began writing again, I drifted toward the bar on the side that contained links to other blogs. Two of them have experienced devastating deaths in the family very recently.
Makes me wonder if there is some force out there that brought me back to my blog and, ultimately, the other blogs.
I don’t understand what the reason would be but I just wanted to offer my most heartfelt sympathies at the loss of your Thomas. Those words feel impotent to me, but they are heartfelt nonetheless.
Thinking of you and yours.
Thank you, Jan. Life can be odd sometimes, in the way things shake out.