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  • The small built, soft speaking lady who comes every Friday to help clean the house showed up as usual around 9 am.

    There was nothing unusual. She refused breakfast with 'I've just eaten, thank you.'

    Went inside to change and to start with the usual routine. Bed sheets. Bathrooms, downstairs first.

    About 10 minutes into the upstairs, she came rushing down the stairs. Something was definetely wrong.

    Said she received a call from the town hospital, her husband briefly speaking and then a nurse.

    He suffered a pain in the chest and was taken to hospital. She was to go to the hospital because they were going to take her husband to a hospital in the city.

    My wife gave a set of pyjamas so she didn't have to go home before going to the hospital and a ride to the bus stop.

    She did not answer her phone the whole day.

    Something was terribly wrong.

    Hours later someone called. The number was hers. My wife inquired about the husband.

    Unfortunately they couldn't save him.

    Ooh no. He was barely 50's. She was much younger. They had dreams for their family. They had three children. The youngest was a boy, 6.

    Now everything was going to be different. For the worse.

    This was almost the way I lost my father after a first heart attack. In his fifties. In the morning.

    I felt the kind of pain I felt after my father. For hours. Well into the evening.

    How sad. One gets up in the morning, feeling like any other day. Goes his/her usual ways into work.

    And suddenly, when that evil hour comes, something unfortunate happens.
    Happens to change the life of the family.

    That one moment. Damn that moment.
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