(Twenty years ago, my husband, Gordon, died on July 5. I wrote this soon after and just found it.)

Strangely, my ex-husband
Tried to prepare me
For Gordon’s death

He is a doctor
My ex
An intensive care specialist
Who knows death well

It probably won't be quiet
He said
It might not be peaceful
He said
Even though he is in a coma
So be prepared 

I should pray
I thought
But I didn't
I should speak our love
I thought
But I didn't

I read aloud
I read The Half Blood Prince
I finished it
Late, late at night
Sitting by my husband's hospital bed

I should watch and pray
I thought
But I fell asleep

I woke at dawn
When the nurse came in

She checked my husband
His breathing
His pressure
His medication drip

I smiled at her
She smiled at me
And left the room

I stroked my husband's hand
I whispered his name
I said good morning
And he died

He took a breath
And then no more
Without agony
But also without trumpets
Without struggle
But also without radiance

And yet, wondrously
Without loss

Because I felt the room
Fill with Presence
Presence and peace 

There You are
I said
Thank You for coming

And so I sat
With Presence
Reluctant to ring
For the nurse

And have Presence
Flee into loss