I took teeny bites of the protein bar as I watched the screen showing my husband’s vital signs. Different colored graphs scrolled by on a continuous roller coaster but no alarms were ringing so I figured things must be stable. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even. I folded the empty wrapper into a small square and put it in my pocket.
We’d just spent a week in Annapolis, Maryland at the longest running and biggest sailboat show in the United States. We walked miles and talked for hours to different vendors about systems and products to enhance our future lifestyle of living off the grid and circumnavigating the globe. Solar panels to create our own electricity, celestial navigation books, battery monitors, a stainless steel folding swim ladder, “marriage saver” headsets for bow to stern communication, and lots and lots of conversations with other sailors.
“Watch your step!” Wendy shouted, jerking him to the side.
It had been a week of “lasts.” Her last term paper, her last shift at the coffee shop, her last Taco Tuesday at Don Jose’s. She heard the toilet flush and realized that this would be the last time Zoe would slip under the covers next to her in their bed.
