I was so thankful to be with my husband in his last moments, as he/we chose to have him on hospice here at home. I think the powers that be woke me up at 4:10am one morning and I sat up to check my husband on the hospital bed in the room next to me. I got up to check him and tell him I loved him, then sat back down to watch him. A few minutes later, I then got up and held him lightly again with my head on his chest, I realized this time his heart was not beating! I was stunned and so grateful that I could be with him in his last moments, but I was broken, as my life was centered around loving and caring for him and keeping our life on track in all aspects of living. I regretted letting him go on chemotherapy, as the Dr had mentioned that usually at his age (late 80's), the medical establishment would most likely suggest not to. But I could not go against my spouses wishes to go on it, so I calmed myself in that respect, as I had let him decide what to do. It has been almost 4 years since then and I still talk to him whenever I feel like it, as it makes me feel better. Is that wrong? Maybe, but I am working my way through this grief hoping to stay in life in a meaningful way with my neighbors here in this senior living community and my children.