One Year Ago Today
In which I reflect on the day my life changed forever...
Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can’t deal, it’s so unfair
~ Gone Away (The Offspring)
One year ago… October 19th, 2024.
One year ago today I came downstairs from a Saturday afternoon nap and found my wife lying on our bathroom floor, unresponsive. Lips blue. Eyes open.
One year ago today I frantically called 911 the operator told me the fire department would be on their way as fast as possible, and that I should roll her onto her back and start chest compressions.
The 911 operator stayed on the line with me, counting out loud so I could keep compressions going at the proper speed, as sweat and tears combined and ran down my face. Even as I followed the operators instructions as best I could, it already felt “too late” to me.
One year ago today I told the 911 operator I had to stop compressions to let the fire fighters I could hear pounding on my front door into the house. By the time I got back to my phone she had hung up. On to another emergency. I wish I could remember her name and thank her for all her help.
One year ago today I opened my front door to fire trucks and a command vehicle blocking my street… lights flashing, engines rumbling… and a bunch of firefighters in all their gear carrying massive red bags of medical equipment standing on my porch.
I had a genuine out-of-body experience as I watched from the upper corner of my living room in slow motion as the firefighters rushed past me, entered the bathroom, and unceremoniously dragged my wife by her feet from the bathroom into our kitchen. They upended chairs and roughly pushed all the furniture to the corners of the room so they could all surround and work on her, trying to coax her back.
I remember thinking “oh, Carin isn’t going to like that you’re all treading through the living room with those big, black firefighter boots on, leaving dirt tracks all over the carpet.”
One year ago today I told my kiddo who was halfway down the stairs to see what the commotion was to go back to their room, shut the door, and don’t under any circumstances come downstairs until I come upstairs first. I know this terrified her. This was the 3rd time in 2024 we’d had emergency services out due to the chronic sickness my wife had been dealing with all year.
One year ago today I sat on the couch in my living room with a firefighter, who asked me all kinds of questions, as his colleagues worked feverishly on my wife in the other room for nearly an hour.
I distinctly remember being aware enough to know that the questions were less about gathering necessary information which was actually needed in that moment, and were more about keeping me distracted, more-or-less calm, and… most importantly… out of the fire fighters way. At the same time, I was in such a state of shock and disbelief that I struggled to call up the most basic information… such as my name… without having to think hard about it first.
One year ago today I saw one of the firefighters step outside to make a call, while his colleagues continued to work.
I later learned this is because firefighters on scene are not allowed to “call it” and declare someone has died, but instead must consult with a doctor who makes the official call based on the information the person on site gives them.
One year ago I took the longest walk of my life… Up our stairs to change my kiddo’s world forever and break their heart by telling them their mom was gone. In the 10 seconds between the landing and Abby’s door my brain frantically looked for an “out” so I wouldn’t have to tell them this news… So I wouldn’t have to be the one to tell them this news.
Then… I was in Abby’s room. Looking at Abby’s worried, tear-stained face. Without grace, elegance, or any softening of the blow, I told them their mom was dead. We stood in the middle of the room held one another tight and cried for a long time.
One heartbeat ago… October 19th, 2025.
One year ago today… “That Other Guy” ceased to exist and a New Stranger moved into my body. He looks just like That Other Guy, often sounds just like That Other Guy, frequently acts just like That Other Guy…
But He is also a stranger to me. In a lot of important ways he thinks differently than That Other Guy did. Many of the passions, pursuits, hobbies, and interests That Other Guy engaged in ceased to have any meaning or allure after October 19th, 2024.
His brain works differently than That Other Guy’s brain did. While That Other Guy could manage the majority of his life and responsibilities keeping track of it all in his head, this new brain can be extremely (frustratingly!) forgetful without the use of a lot of notes, alarms, and reminders.
He has less energy than That Other Guy did. He gets tired faster than he used to. He is far less willing than That Other Guy was to stay in spaces not meant for him, or invest precious time investing in relationships that are unwilling or unable to invest equally in him.
One year ago today… That Other Guy died on his kitchen floor next to his wife of 22 years, and this New Guy got handed the wheel.
One year ago today… My old life ended. My new life began.
Love you friend.