after life
Jun 26, 2020
5 minutes
BY RUTH BESTEMAN, BYRON CENTER, MICHIGAN
THE HOUSE MARV and I had called our home was deathly silent as I moved aimlessly from room to room. Our three grown children had gone back to their lives. The same with my friends. Five days after the funeral there was only me, alone with my thoughts. No one to tell how much I missed hearing his voice, his warm laugh. He’d been such a rock for me in our marriage, with his banker’s sensibility, dependable, faithful. His faith had always been stronger than mine.
Now he was gone, killed by complications from pneumonia and a progressive palsy that would have left him paralyzed had he not died. I’d spent my career as a nurse. I knew the toll
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