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| Mia, January 1992. |
Friday, July 5th, 2024, 11:11 AM, Mia collapsed. As if in slow motion I saw her fall sideways. I thought she had dropped something and made a lame joke. She was lying on the floor, looking at me and at the same time... she wasn't looking.
The sparkle in her eyes was gone.
Immediately after that came gurgling. "Gasping!" I realized. "She's having a heart attack!"
I called 112 (the Dutch version of 911). I was instructed to immediately start CPR. Fortunately, I had recently completed a refresher course and was able to start right away. Within a few minutes the police arrived, then the ambulance. Despite everyone's efforts, it took another 20 minutes before she had a heartbeat. With screaming sirens she was taken to the hospital. What followed were four terrible days full of tension, hope and despair.
On Monday July 8, we "celebrated" Mia's 60th birthday in the hospital. Although, "celebrating"... She had not regained consciousness since that dreadful Friday.
The next day, Tuesday July 9, we would receive the results of a brain scan.
The doctor was short.
Very short.
"According to Dutch law, my colleagues and I are entitled to terminate the treatment. She will never recover."
A twist that we feared deep inside, but which nevertheless caught us by surprise.
That evening we had to let her go. Femke, Jeske and I stayed with her until the very end. Until she breathed her last. She died that evening in my arms. For the second time in a week...
Never again the sparkle in her eyes.
Never again her radiant smile.
I can only be grateful that she chose me, that she wanted to share her life with me. Fortunately she lives on in our children.
My love,
we will move forward together,
knowing that your boundless love will live on within us
forever.
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| Mia, July 2023. |