To My Husband, On The One Year Anniversary Of Losing Him To COVID

by Pamela Addison
Originally Published: 
Pamela Addison with her late husband on their wedding day
Courtesy of Pamela Addison

My Love,

I feel like I have sat down to write this over 100 times, but I just never am able to get the right words out. I cannot believe it has almost been a year since I lost you. So much has happened, and yet a part of me still feels like no time has really passed at all. So much about our last moments together as both a family and just us are still so vivid, like they only just happened yesterday. I still see you in your Mets shirt and sweatpants looking at me from the doorway of our bedroom as I stood by Elsie’s room. I remember telling you what a great job you were doing and reassuring you that you would feel better. I know I said “I love you” as I started down the stairs because I heard Graeme fussing. In that moment I thought you were going to start feeling better and life would get back to normal. Little did I know our story was about to take an unexpected turn only a few days later.

I still think about April 3rd a great deal. To be honest, that day still haunts me in some ways. I question a lot about that day still even after a year. I still think about how I should have done something sooner. I remember how you asked me for water the night before, which I immediately got for you. I remember texting you to tell you that it was there at the door all ready for you. You didn’t respond and I didn’t hear you get up and open the door. You had been tired. You told the doctor that and he said it was normal, so I just thought you fell asleep and would get it when you woke up a little later, but now I know how wrong I was.

I wish I had gone back up, knocked on your door … maybe I would have known something was wrong then and I would have gotten you help sooner. It wasn’t until I went and got Elsie that I heard you gasping for air. I know that once I knew you were in trouble, I did what I needed to do, but there is a part of me that wishes I had done something sooner. I remember going into our room with the oxygen tank the police gave me; the look on your face as I approached you is something I will never forget. You didn’t know who I was, you were so confused, and I was so scared I really didn’t know what to do. When they carried you down the stairs, I could still see that confused and dazed look on your face. I know I mouthed “I love you” as I held Graeme in my arms. I am sorry I didn’t come hug or kiss you, but I thought you were going to go to the hospital and get the care you needed so you could come home to us. I didn’t know that was the last time I would see you. Had I known, I would have done things so much differently.

Babe, I know you would tell me I don’t need to be sorry, but I feel I need to say I am sorry. I am sorry I thought I had caught everything in time. I am sorry I didn’t tell you I started to feel sick, but I wanted you to focus on you and not worry about me, because, let’s face it, that is who you are, the person who always worried about me before yourself. I am sorry I couldn’t be there with you holding your hand to make you feel a little less scared and less lonely. I am sorry I couldn’t protect you. I am sorry you had to spend the last days of your life alone without the ones you loved the most. I am sorry you won’t be here with me to watch Elsie and Graeme grow up. I am sorry we never got to go to all the places we talked about. I am sorry you didn’t get to finish all the house projects you had planned to do to make our house the house of our dreams. I am sorry I wasn’t able to save you.

My love, most of all I am sorry I never answered the last question you asked me: “What if I don’t make it?” So now, a year later, let me answer that question for you: Elsie, Graeme and I will miss you beyond words, but we will be okay. You knew when I married you that I am a strong and resilient person capable of so much. I will share your story and honor you in everything I do. I will use my loss and our story to influence change, and make sure that you, along with the many other Covid victims, are never forgotten. I will raise awareness about the impact Covid has had on young children like Elsie and Graeme. I will become a strong advocate who will not stop fighting. I will be inspired by you and the way you lived your life by helping others. I will create a Facebook group for young widows and widowers of Covid so that I can help others and they can help me as we embark on this journey of healing and life after loss. Most of all, I will make sure Elsie and Graeme know what an amazing Papa you are, how lucky they are to have you, and how much you adored and loved them. Your legacy will live on forever, and my love, you will never be forgotten.

I still remember and think about our last FaceTime call almost a year ago. I find it so fitting that it happened to be on the anniversary of when you asked me to marry you. You were heavily sedated, but I know you could hear me. I talked about that perfect day with you, and most of all I told you I would do it all over again. Even almost a year after losing you, I would still do it all over again even if I knew I would have to endure the pain of losing you so soon. I know when you died you knew just how much I love you and how much I will always love you. I am honored that I am the person you spent the rest of your life with. I will always wish we had had more time, my Love, but I am grateful for all our special moments. Our dreams will still come true because I know you are still with me as I move forward with life, and I plan to do everything we talked about with Elsie and Graeme in your honor.

I just want to let you know, I think about you and miss you every single day. I also want to thank you. Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for your support. Thank you for your adorkableness. Thank you for all our wonderful memories. Thank you for making me laugh and smile. Thank you for teaching me about married life. Thank you for bringing so many amazing people into my life. Thank you for being the person you were. Thank you for giving me the two greatest gifts in this world, Elsie and Graeme. Above all, thank you for loving me so deeply.

You always told me “Tomorrow isn’t promised.” I plan to live the way you did by enjoying every moment like it is my last.

I love you Martin. Now Forever Always.

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