5 days. Tonight it will be a week since we called the ambulance.

I’m starting to become un-numbed (is that a word?). Is that normal after less than a week?

One thing that surprises me is how I so fell to pieces, and how much grief I’ve felt this past week, considering how things have been between us the last couple of years. I think my sister had it right when she said it was realizing the might-be’s, the chances of changing things are gone now. That and saying goodbye to the might-have-been’s.

It’s no consolation, but I’m following family tradition. My mother was widowed in her 30s and both of my grandmothers and my sister in their 40s. At least I made it to my 50s.

I’ve mentioned David had a wicked sense of humor? When we first started dating, he loved to shock me. Once he took me to a topless bar (without telling me what kind of bar it was), and another time he took me to a bar in St. Paul where they had a dance talent contest. It wasn’t until we’d been there for a while that he told me the dancers were transvestites. I still can’t figure out how they could wear such revealing clothes (tight low-cut dresses, envision Tina Turner) and look so like women. For goodness sakes, this was before sex changes and hormones.

Yup, that was my hubby.