The day Ruth died was like any other day we shared. She was up earlier than me, so she ate early, and I ate late. We spoke like we did thousands of other retired mornings. If I wasn’t out golfing early, we talked, played a game of Euchre, and reviewed our individual days. Golf was canceled this day, we didn’t take time for Euchre, and we spoke just long enough to share our plans for the day.
For the past few months, a group of guys played poker at our place every other Tuesday evening. She’d go to the casino in Mt. Pleasant for a couple of hours while we played. She’d check in when she returned, and the guys would ask if she’d won or not.
About an hour and a half after we started playing, one of our smoke alarms started chirping. I did a quick inspection and determined the defective alarm was upstairs, so we played on. We wrapped up at 10:00 as planned. Ruth had said she’d be home by 8:00, so I was concerned.
I tried calling her cell phone as I set out to change the batteries. She didn’t answer.
The smoke alarms speak while you’re servicing them. “Bad Batteries” repeated as I replaced them. I recall thinking I’d just replaced them two weeks prior because I was preparing the condo for our trip south. I pulled the batteries, put in the new, and walked across the room to toss the old in the trash. That’s when I looked up and saw a red light in the front door’s side window. As soon as I saw the light, the doorbell sounded. That moment was the beginning of the rest of my life.
As I said in my last post, Ruth was driving home from Mt. Pleasant when she had a “medical emergency”. That’s what the two State Police officers said when they rang the doorbell. I already knew something was wrong as she was late, and she was never late. I was told she’d loss consciousness, veered off the road, and hit a parked car. Medical personnel tried to revive her, but their efforts failed, and she was pronounced dead at the scene. By the time they found me, Ruth had been taken to the medical examiner’s office at Sparrow Hospital in Lansing.
I was awake for most of the rest of the night. When I did try to sleep, I tossed and turned, and couldn’t get the “Bad Batteries” out of my thoughts. I retrieved them from the trash with an eye on testing them in the morning. It took another day to determine the batteries were indeed “good”.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Ruth triggered the alarm. It sounded through the hours I played cards and went silent when I changed the batteries. Less than two minutes later, the officers were at my door.
Ruth and I spoke often about what’s next. We weren’t religious people, but I’d say we were spiritual. We both believed that spirits have visited us throughout our years together. Ruth’s dad, Lou, visited us numerous times. There was no doubt in our minds.
On Thursday, I had the opportunity to “Facetime” with Michael’s wife, Kate, who stayed in California to care for young Jackson. About ten minutes before I made the call, Michael, set our Roomba free to sweep the floor. It traveled back and forth gathering up crumbs we adults were too lazy to sweep up ourselves.
While I was sharing the story of the smoke alarm, the Roomba started to beep. It was stuck in a corner, unable to free itself. I’m positive Ruth guided it to the corner to set off another alarm. She wanted Kate and Jackson to know she was thinking of them.
I don’t believe in heaven, or hell, but honor the beliefs of those who do. I don’t believe there’s one right way, and that’s why I have trouble with the concept of organized religion. I’ll share more about that down the road.
Now that Ruth’s moved on, one thing is perfectly clear, there’s something more and she wanted me to know.