Jump-Starting my Heart

I felt a tugging on my heart tonight. It was quite unexpected, as emotional triggers often are. I do not spend my days, or nights, worried about walking in a mine field of emotional triggers. I do not avoid places, movies, music, etc., that might make me feel deeply, or cause intense emotions to sweep over me. I have had times when I actually want to feel deeply, just to remind me that I am still alive and human. I will sometimes purposely seek out those things that might cause my heart to ache a little (or a lot), just to remind me how much I really love my Charles.

Tonight, however, the emotions that rushed over me were very unexpected. I was watching a new movie, and there was a scene where the love interest was dying, and they were trying to bring her back with CPR. The medical crew was pounding on her chest, while the man who loved her looked on with a broken heart. As I watched the pounding motion of the CPR, I had a flashback to my time in the hospital with Charles. My mind opened up one of the vaults that holds all of my potent memories, and a flood of emotions was unleashed.

When I first arrived at the hospital -- about 30 minutes after the ambulance left from our home -- I walked into a room to find Charles white and lifeless, surrounded by medical staff who were mercilessly pounding on his chest. They tried so hard to revive him, there was a team lined up around him, taking turns with the exhausting efforts of CPR. I thought that if he were to live, he would be very badly bruised and beat up from the violent process of bringing a heart back to life.

At that point, I was in more than shock. I felt like I was having a nightmare, and nothing was real. Henry was with me in that hospital room, and I kept trying to shield his young eyes from the thrashing about of his lifeless father.

I was not crying, I was completely and utterly numb.

There are a few images from that day that haunt me occasionally, but that moment stands out to me, because it was the first time I saw Charles without a heartbeat. It was the first time I discovered the love of my life was likely not going survive. My fighter was losing his battle, and the frailties of the flesh were consuming him -- the clotting was too intense, too massive to conquer. When he left our house with breathing troubles, there was still hope. I simply did not know what was wrong, I did not know he was dying. I thought surely they could fix him at the hospital.

But the CPR was not enough.

His heartbeat returned a few times, but he never regained consciousness.

The clot was too big, it traveled too fast. There was nothing that could be done.

As I watched the scene in the movie, my own scenes continued to play out on the stage of my mind. I began to cry, and I felt such a deep and overwhelming love for Charles. I sometimes try to keep my love for him at a distance from me, because otherwise, it just hurts too much. But I realized tonight, that what I have with Charles -- what we have together -- is something so incredibly special and unique, and I am truly blessed to know such a love.

I know that those who die are often immortalized in perfection by those who are left behind. In my case, I remember Charles as he was. I remember the good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly, the joy, the pain... all of it. He was not perfect, and neither was I.

But between the two of us, there was something so powerful... there still is something so powerful. We have a romance so deep that when I am allowed to feel its true power, I can hardly stand to tolerate such an intense emotional pressure in my mortal state. This love, this intensity, often brings me to my knees weeping in gratitude.

15 years with him was certainly not enough time; but 15 years plus forever might just be enough.

He is mine forever. I have such gratitude in my heart for that beautiful reality.

Tonight it was watching theatrical CPR that jump-started my heart, and revived my suppressed love for Charles.

My heart still beats for him.