Someone asked me if I was going to write a post about September 19, 2011 - the day Rob lay dying in the hospital. The ambulance was called during the middle of the night on Sunday - which was technically Monday morning, Sept. 19th. He died at 4:13 a.m. on Tuesday morning, Sept. 20th. So the 24 hours from when I first saw him unconscious to when he took his last breath was really the 19th and the 20th. I never left his side (except to come out and update people and when they closed ICU to visitors and they made me leave from around 6:30 p.m. until almost 8 p.m. on the 19th). So, I went to bed on Sunday the 18th, woke up 4 hours later on the 19th to my husband being unconscious, and then did not sleep again until way after midnight (I think around 1 or 2 a.m) on the night of the 20th (I guess technically the 21st) - if you can call what I did that night "sleep," that is.
To answer the person's question of whether or not I will write a post about that day (since I did write about the 18th and the 20th), I have written about that day - the 19th. But I have not written it in a form I'm ready to share nor do I know if I ever will be.
All I'm ready to share right now is that that day was the most horrific, most horrible, most painful, most awful, most traumatic day I have ever lived.
It was also a day when I felt your love for Rob and for me from many, many of you.
Thank you for that.
It was a day that I kept asking God for strength, mercy, and grace.
It was a day that He gave all three.
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