We hadn’t celebrated our first anniverary yet when…
The Curmudgeon left overnight to go fishing with his best friend. A few hours later, I got a phone call from his friend’s brother that they were in an accident and he’d be here to pick me up in a few minutes.
It took the plastic surgeon over 4 hours to stitch up The Curmudgeon’s face and sew his ear back in place. He’d gone through the windshield…twice… once forward and then backwards as his knees caught on the dash and pulled him back through. No seat belts in that car.
In the meantime I sat in the hospital all that time not knowing if he was alive or dead. A nurse handed me a bag of bloody clothes saying, “I suppose you want his personal effects.” And then she walked away without another word. No one told me anything for over four hours!
I’d seen his friend and knew he was okay but I’d heard nothing about The Curmudgeon. Finally, the plastic surgeon came out to talk to me and explain what he had to do. He told me he stopped counting at 1000 stitches. That was forty years ago. There are times it seems like yesterday.