Bill and Char told me today about a young woman at the YMCA who collapsed on the treadmill in cardiac arrest. She was right beside a firefighter who did all the right things--CPR, the use of the defibrillator they have there at the Y....she lives. I'm so very thankful that she lived-what a blessing for her and her family.
Chris collapsed in the middle of the night, and within seconds, a cardiac nurse was there doing all the right things, and within minutes, the EMTs shocked him twice...he died. So my question is this: Why did it work for the woman (and I'm very glad it did), but it did not work for my husband? He was not, nor had he, been doing anything strenuous. She was on a treadmill and lived. He was sleeping and died.
The anger I felt at the beginning toward Chris is not redirected toward anyone or anything. What happened to Chris is a result of his genetic condition. He was under the best care around and there is no rhyme or reason as to why he left now and not 20 or 30 years from now.
He did not choose to die by failing to tell me that he wasn't feeling well for 2 1/2 days. He was trying to save me from worrying and the group from a ruined vacation. Though his plans surely failed, he did not want to go when he did.
You know, my family went through 7 deaths in 7 months last year, Chris's being the over-the-top death for us, of course.
I have no words of wisdom, no grand life-changing insight, nothing to share that rocks this world, except this....
GOD LOVES ME.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
GOD LOVES ME. PERIOD.
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I wish I had words for you, something to comfort, to reassure, to make you laugh, to bring you peace. I thank you for trusting us with your pain, your struggles. I wish I could shoulder some of the pain. Know that I will continue to lift you up in prayer and that I love you.
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