PART 1: CAROL’S FINAL REQUEST
The hospital room smelled of antiseptic mixed with the faint lavender lotion Carol had carried in her purse for as long as I could remember. I sat beside her bed holding her hand while the machines around us kept their slow rhythm, unable to believe that thirty-six years of marriage had been reduced to this small room.
Two days earlier, the doctor had taken me into the hallway and spoken carefully about how far the illness had spread. Most of his explanation disappeared from my mind, leaving only the words that mattered: there was nothing more they could do except keep her comfortable.
Carol had come into my life when I was already carrying the wreckage of another heartbreak. She never demanded explanations or tried to force me to heal faster, but simply stayed beside me until, slowly and completely, I fell in love with her.
