Seven weeks ago Dave and I were on the front porch, drinking coffee, not a care in the world. All was bliss. Okay, so I had a few cares. I was worried about the presentation on Mexico City that I was scheduled to give at a “Salon” we hold up here.
Actually, let me restate that. I was worried about getting down to the valley to get my hair and nails done before the presentation, and except for that little detail, all was well. I just needed to get myself caffeinated up and run through the presentation a final time.
I went inside to pour another cup of coffee, looked out the window and that’s when I saw Dave lying face down in the grass. You have to realize my first thought wasn’t that he was hurt. Noooo. He’d been on a mission to eradicate all gophers from the lawn, and I just assumed he was getting an up close and personal look at a gopher warren. Except that didn’t make sense, not the way he was lying.
In what now seems like very slow motion, I finally got the idea that his lying on the grass had nothing to do with the gophers, that something was seriously wrong. Only I didn’t know how wrong or I would have . . .