It was around this time last year. I remember that because we were meeting M and A at the town pub; a celebratory dinner in place of A's birthday party that M would miss.
A commotion at the table next to us, something was happening with the woman seated less than a foot away. I heard slurring. The man was quickly by the woman's side; catching her, setting her back into her seat. She seemed to be having a stroke, I was reaching for my phone as the paramedics arrived.
Trying to divert our children, we minimized what was happening. We said the woman didn't feel well, and we assured the girls that the paramedics would help her.
Driving home A questioned whether the woman would be alright.
'mama she was like this', A said, demonstrating the woman's eye rolling back into her head, her body rigid.
Looking into the rear view mirror, I'm able to assuage my girl that the woman was going to be fine, trying to find solace in my own words. Trying to erase the haunting image of the woman with her face pressed into the man; a slight moan escaping her lips as big fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
This morning I learned that the woman died. She went into a coma and never came back.
In those moments before the paramedics arrived, I think she knew. There was recognition on her sad face; knowing and powerless to do anything.
My heart is heavy this afternoon with sadness for that woman. I remember the man saying to the paramedics that the woman spent the afternoon gardening. I remember thinking it was a lovely day to be in the garden, and I remember hoping against hope, that it was just a day of too much sun.
