I regret deeply that I missed the moment my husband left. He had been restless all day and around 5 AM I gave him some meds and he seemed to calm and sleep. The nighttime care giver was in a chair next to him and I was exhausted and so I went upstairs to my bed. I was awakened by the care giver around 6 who said he had called for me. I hurried downstairs, but one look and I knew he was gone. If only I had stayed with him, but I truly had no idea it would happen that fast. Now I carry a load of guilt for not being with him that simply won’t shrink. I also barely missed both my parents’ departing moments which leaves me wondering if there is some sort of message in my having just missed the deaths of 3 people I dearly love. I fully intended to be there for them. It often makes me cry when I realize I can’t say, "I did everything I could". Having gone through all that we did together since his diagnosis in 2020, missing the last act seems a lot more than cruel. I know I have a lot to overcome, but, even if the experience was heart-rending, I envy those of you who were there at the right moments.