Proof The Bible Is True

I hugged my husband’s picture to my chest one day while I wandered from room to room, alone in our big house. “Bruce, I miss you so much.”

 

Missing him was nearly unbearable, but it only accounted for one layer of my grief. Bruce and I had rarely been apart during his long and valiant battle with cancer. We’d fought the disease side by side for years. But when my husband passed from this world, I had been sound asleep. Less than two feet away from him, I was oblivious in his last moments on earth. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. I was supposed to be present, holding his hand, stroking his forehead, dusting his cheek with my lips, telling him how much I loved him, comforting him while we said our goodbyes. Now I lived with the guilt that I’d let him down. How would I ever be able to forgive myself?

 

Time had passed, but it didn’t help me forget how I’d failed him. Today was no different from any other since that awful day he’d died. Every empty room seemed to say, “He’s gone.”

 

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