A year ago yesterday, David collapsed for the first time. He came to while we were on the phone to 911. He said he tripped and fell, and refused to have the ambulance come. I was so angry with him because I was so scared, and I thought it was because he’d been drinking. I spent the next 2 1/2 weeks trying to get him to go to the doctor. I knew something was wrong, just from his behavior. He said and did things that were just irrational. By the 22nd, he finally consented to let me call the doctor and make an appointment for him. He collapsed on the 24th, and until the 26th, it was only the machines that kept him alive.

I don’t miss the constant tension of the past few years. It’s not easy living with an alcoholic, which is what David became after having his job replaced by a computer. But I do miss my old friend, the one who years and years ago, I told of my fears of things going so well that they couldn’t last. I was right, they didn’t. I don’t know how people who don’t have faith in the Bible’s promises of a resurrection handle things like this. I have a hard enough time, and I know, as sure as I know the sun is coming up tomorrow, that there will be a resurrection on this earth, and it’s my hope that I’ll be there to greet David and Mom, and tell them, ‘I told you so.’