It’s hard to explain what happened yesterday. I’ve spent the last 20 years trying to live with the pain of losing my wife. She passed away suddenly, and it felt like the world dropped out from under me. I’ve lived alone ever since, holding onto the memories of our time together, and I never thought I could move past the grief. But what happened yesterday has left me questioning everything I believed.
I was going about my usual day, feeling the weight of years of solitude. As I sat down for dinner, I suddenly began to feel a strange numbness creeping up my arm. My vision blurred, and my thoughts grew fuzzy. I knew something was wrong—very wrong—and panic started to set in. But I wasn’t able to move, to call anyone, or even get help.
Then, I heard her. Her voice, soft but clear, calling my name. At first, I thought I was imagining it—after all, my wife had passed away two decades ago. But there was no mistaking it. She was right there with me, telling me to get up, to move. She guided me, even in my confused state, and in that moment, I somehow found the strength to get up and stumble to the phone.
The next few hours are a blur. Paramedics arrived quickly, and I was rushed to the hospital. They told me I’d had a stroke but that I’d made it through by the narrowest margin.
As I sit here recovering, I can’t help but believe that my wife’s spirit somehow intervened. She saved me when I had no chance. I don’t know how, but I’m so thankful that, even after all these years, she was still looking out for me.
