One of the things I used to complain about my husband was that he never looked back when he drove out the garage or passed through airport doors. Please brace yourself – I am going to make you very sad with my next sentence. He passed away suddenly couple weeks ago. No heads up. No goodbye. You are supposed to fall sick, go to the doctor, not respond to treatment and then die. Otherwise, sudden death in an otherwise healthy young person is due to an accident, suicide or homicide. That’s what I have experienced, as a physician. That’s not the way my husband left this world. He left peacefully. Suddenly. At a very young age. No past medical history. He cloaked it as a nap. He did more than his share during his life to stay fit and healthy. Fate dealt an absolute precision strike on my loved one. On my life.

In my extreme grief, I tried to make sense of this with my close family members and friends. One family member suggested that perhaps God wanted him to be reborn for a far greater purpose than make those around him happy. My husband had a positive impact on most people he met in his life. There was a lot of love during his memorial services. We shared and relived happy memories while grieving. One of my closest friends suggested during the eulogies that this was probably his ‘moksha janmam’ or the life in which one attains self-realization and release from the cycle of death and rebirth. I could reconcile with this too, although neither explanation does anything to change the huge void in my life. My medical knowledge tells me that the way he died is extremely rare. It’s hard for me to accept becoming prey to statistical rarity and randomness.

He was warm, affectionate and full of life. He had a way of making people comfortable around him. He had a way of calling out your pain and easing it, even if you weren’t paying attention or ready to admit yourself. He was capable of masking his own pain while making those around him laugh and feel happy. He loved his family very much, almost to a fault. He took great pride in the achievements of his family and friends. He had a way of deflecting tense situations with lighthearted humor. Nothing is too silly or ridiculous if it was meant to make his dear one laugh. He helped everyone along his way. We grew together over thirteen years. I’m going to miss my best friend very very much.

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