Eleven, Twelve, or None
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Today is eleven months since Jan, the love of my life, died.
But it also could have been the first anniversary.
A year ago, she had emergency surgery to install a stent and was in the ICU with a blood pressure of 70 over 40 and a temperature of 100.
It could have been fatal had we delayed going to the hospital.
Instead, when I visited her a year ago, she was the healthiest in years. I thought we had survived the worst, and she would only get better.
Even though that did not happen, our love will never die.
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Feeling the warmth of her smile, she seemed like the healthiest she had been in years.
