My Wife Of 45 Years Died. I Thought I Truly Knew Her — Until I Discovered Her Journals.

Sue and the author wait to see an eclipse in 2017.

“Feel her toes and feet. When they turn cold, you’ll know. You’ll know she’s ready to go,” the hospice nurse told me. “Human bodies are predictable.” She had witnessed life’s final act hundreds of times. 

This was my Sue’s 13th day in hospice.

I held her hand, still warm. 

My wife of almost 45 years, my Sue, lay motionless, life draining from her body.

Her thin, gray hair fell in tufts around her head. Her eyes were closed.