Baby, baby, baby, you're out of time

Exactly one-half of my life (so far) was spent with the most intelligent, gentle and Godly woman on the planet. She gave me three children, a Reason For Living, and an amazing journey through life's ups and downs. Fortunately for me, much of her learning experience came before I met her, so I got the benefit of her wisdom "after the fact".

Unfortunately for me, Corine died at 4:20 this morning. Peacefully, at home, surrounded by our children and grandchildren. Gone is the pain and suffering and terrifying shortness of breath, the result of an attack by lupus on her lungs about seven years ago. As her breathing slowed, then ceased, I swear she lost 30 years of well-earned lines and wrinkles. She relaxed into a beatific state, and went to spend the rest of her life with daughters Debi and Kristine, and many members of her extended family, in the presence of the God she knew and loved and served so well.

After saying our private good-byes to her now-lifeless body, the kids and I planned some aspects of the celebrations, from interment to memorial service and notifications. We called a few friends to notify them, and the mortuary to get started on cremation. By 8:00 am, the kids were going to their homes to sleep and wash up before our 1:30 meeting at the mortuary.

And just like that, I was suddenly alone in the house.

Blue, our cat, was the only anxious one now. She's not quite sure what happened to Jake, our 14-year-old Black Lab who died in February; or to the dryer, that faithfully served us for 30 years, and finally broke last month (the sure sign someone is or has died, I swear!).

Me, I'm just very tired, and awkwardly trying to be brave when I've spent 31 years with a soul-mate, and never been so alone except for the three months Corine spent with her father, in Yuma, as he died of lung cancer. On her birthday.

Our 31st anniversary was two days ago. I'm glad we got a couple extra days, and I look forward already to a reunion with her, and the giggling girls.