still?

3_18_11.jpgI was asked yesterday how Jeff died. I am often able to tell the awful tale involving the screams, the CPR in the parking lot and the confusion of two little ones without flinching or crying. It is now just regurgitated information that I have been required to tell so many times that I think I could tell it in my sleep.

But there is one part of the story that always makes me cry...if I tell it. 

It's a strange part. It's not the part where I watch the nurse lead my little daughter away by the hand with my tiny son on her hip. It's not the part where I am begging the doctor to help me do CPR. It's not the part where I realize that Jeff is gone because his eyes have gone cloudy. It's not the part where I am begging the doctor to help me do CPR.

The portion of events that make me sob happened during all the crazy and terrifying moments. As I attempted to breathe live back into my husband, I would take a breath and look up. Each time I lifted my head I'd scream out with fear and anguish. Each time, my eyes would meet a man in the parking lot.

He was holding his cloth grocery bags. Watching. Being entertained by the last moments that I ever spent with my husband. He was most likely not enjoying what he saw, but he wasn't, couldn't, help in any way...And still he watched.

Each breath, he was still there. Over the shoulder of one of the doctors I'd see him staring. Witnessing the most intimate moment I have ever shared with my husband - the moment he left this world.

And for that, I illogically and possibly unkindly hate this man with all my might. I can still imagine all the things I would love to say to him. How I would tell him to get better cable service.

I realize that I may be pouring all my anger surrounding this terrible event into one unexpecting being....But I still can't quell my fury.

To appease myself, I ensure that I NEVER stare at car accidents when I am unable to provide any assistance. I beg others to do the same.

But still, when I tell the story, this is the part that makes me cry. That one person was entertained by the loss of my husband. And that still hurts so very badly.


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