That MOMENT

Ken walked over to the bed and sat down. He said he was going to go to the doctors in the morning if he lived that long. I sat up and looked at him, What do you mean if you live that long. What is wrong. He said my arm hurt. It fell asleep and woke wake up.
I knew this was serious. I reached for the phone to call 911. By the time i dialed the number Ken yelled my name and hit the bed. His eyes changed colors, he was not breathing, his mouth would not close. I yell to the man on the phone he is dead my husband is dead. He told me to do CPR on him. I had to pull him off the bed on to the floor. I managed to move him. Now Ken was a very thin man but that night I swear he weighed 300 lbs.
I tried to do CPR but his mouth would not close and all the air from his lungs was coming into my mouth. I remember hearing a sound I never heard before. I pray I will never hear it again. The sound of death. It was loud, raspy and deep. I heard that sound for a year after that. Every night, Every day, Any time I closed my eyes and it was quiet I heard death.
I laid there and breathed in is last breaths. I took his breath into my body. I took him in for the last time. He was now a part of me. He would be in me as long as I lived. He was in my breaths.
When the Ems arrived They worked on him. I knew he was dead. The kids were all woke. They didn't know what was going on. I called my mom. I always said to my family If someone dies in the middle of the night do not call me. Just wait until morning. I need my sleep and if you call me I will not go back to sleep. Well Look who was doing the calling. ME. I told my mom Ken was dead. She yelled and screamed. She loved him so much. She always talks about how his face was kind and he use to always smile. She called my uncle and we had a three way conversation. My uncle said some mess. I truly do not remember. I do remember whatever he said pissed me off. I just lost my husband and he said something dumb. I wanted to smack him.
The medic had to use the phone to call the hospital. I got off the phone and sat with the kids. They were all sleepy so we went into the kids room and I laid them down. They took my husband out still working in him. They worked at least forty-five mins. on him. They did not see a black man and give up on him. they saw a man with a young family. They saw a man with a family that needed him. I remember one of them saying. He has a new baby .....This has to work. It didn't . Nothing they did worked. They took my Ken out the door. But he had left he building and hour earlier. I knew it when he hit the bed. MY ken was gone. MY ken had left me. He had gone home. He had gotten his wish. He was in Jamaica. HE was with his family and friends looking over the ocean. HE was at peace. I would never have peace again.