The life I knew and its shattering

Many of you know most of this story already, but for those of you who may not or may not know everything about my relationship with Karen - how we met, got engaged, lived, etc. - I wanted to put it all out there, as well as what happened that tragic day two and a half weeks ago, so that those who might not have met her or only met her briefly can know. (Sorry in advance for the length....)



Karen and I met in 8th grade back in 1984. It was a private school in Brooklyn that went from pre-K through high school and we were friendly through high school, as most of us were given the size of the school and our class, but we never dated. Although I did have a crush on her and even volunteered to help with the girls varsity basketball team because she was on it, we never dated.

We graduated in 1989 and went off to college; her to Tulane and me to the University of Arizona. We all but lost touch with each other, although our paths crossed momentarily after three years of college when I dropped out and moved to New Orleans for a few months. Neither of us remember seeing each other while I was there (she was in her senior year), but I somehow had her phone number in my address book from that time. That was around 1993 and we had no other contact after until last year.

One day last Spring I decided to search MySpace for people from my high school class. I found five old friends, Karen was one of them, and emailed them all. She and I exchanged a few brief emails, as you might expect from two people who knew each other a bit but had fallen completely out of touch for nearly two decades, but nothing more for several months. Then, in late September, we made plans to meet for a drink after work. The drink turned into an evening of talking, reminiscing, laughing (something I hadn't done much of recently due to my previous marriage ending in divorce), wandering around the neighborhood, enjoying each other's company, and starting to fall in love with each other. The night ended with us kissing goodbye. There was no "wait a few days before calling" and we started seeing each other all the time. She too had a first marriage end in divorce, but there were so many other things that caused our instant connection. My friends and family soon started remarking how the Andrew they "used to know" was back, laughing, smiling, and enjoying life.

In May of this year we went back to our high school for the annual alumni luncheon. It was our 19th reunion, nothing so special, but we both had friends in the class year above and wanted to see them. We had an amazing time and people were wowed by us as a couple. That night, early morning of May 4, we were at a club in the city with some friends when, without a ring or otherwise preparing, I knelt on the floor in front of her and asked her to marry me. She agreed immediately.

That week, we discussed wanting children and decided - because we were both 36 and have friends who are have had/are having difficulties getting pregnant - to start trying. To our surprise and joy, she was pregnant almost immediately. We held the news as long as we could, but almost everyone we knew that she was about three months pregnant when she walked down the aisle at our wedding on August 17.

Our life was going amazingly, like a dream come true. We spent days together and never argued. We kissed constantly and couldn't spend enough time with each other. We laughed, loved, and talked about our future, including our expectant child. With each visit to the doctor we saw out son grow, even watching him yawn at one sonogram appointment, and Karen was absolutely LOVING being pregnant.

On November 15, my 37th birthday, Karen took me to a matinée of Speed the Plow and then dinner at Aquvit in Manhattan. It was a perfect evening. The next morning began as a normal Sunday. We relaxed for a little while, read the newspaper, and then went to my mother's apartment to meet up with the family and say hi. We had a little brunch and then went for a walk in our neighborhood. We had dinner reservations for later that evening with my mother, brother, and sister-in-law, but at around 2 we decided to grab a bite because Karen needed to eat regularly through the day due to the pregnancy. There is a little Columbian restaurant we'd passed many times and always wanted to try. We decided this was the day for it. We shared a few small dishes and it was wonderful. Karen enjoyed eating, whether it was haute cuisine, like the night before, or just really great down home cooking, like Cafe Bogota. At the end of the meal, when the waiter brought the check, he also brought a comment/mailing list card. Karen remarked how much she liked the meal - rating it a 10 - and asked the waiter for a pen to filling out the card. This is when my life went from a dream to an unimaginable nightmare.

Karen had just begun writing when she suddenly stopped, sat bolt-upright, and looked at me with wide open eyes. I thought she was goofing around and asked what was wrong. She said nothing, but kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and slumped forward onto the table. I immediately knew something was wrong and got up and went to her side. I took her head from the table and pulled her to me. Her eyes were still wide open and unresponsive as she slide lower into the chair. I began to scream for help as she fell against me, out of her chair, and onto the floor with me. I continued to yell for help as people came to assist and began dialing 9-1-1. She was not breathing, nor was she struggling or moving at all as she lay on the floor. The first police officers arrived within a matter of minutes, with fire fighters and EMTs immediately following. I was ushered out of the restaurant by the police officers as I heard someone call for a defibrillator. My world was tumbling out of control.

Time stood still and accelerated all at once. I sat on the sidewalk with two of the police officers as the EMTs continued working inside and was asked questions intermittently - was she on any medication, any medical history, etc. - but could not get any information in return. This was obviously frustrating at the time, but in hindsight I understand that the attention was on rendering aide to Karen and not to answering my questions. I was then led to a police car and driven to the hospital. The ensuing minutes/hours are a blur. I was ushered into a quiet room with my entire family, who had been called by a bystander who took my cellphone and asked if there was anyone she could contact for me. Doctors initially came in to say Karen was being worked on still and that James, our son, had been delivered by emergency cesarean section and taken to the NICU. They had no word on either one's condition.

A short time later the doctors returned, accompanied by the hospital chaplain, and told me that Karen could not be revived, never regained consciousness, and was dead. My life shattered as those words were spoke. I fell to the floor in agony. Every muscle and fiber of my body crying out in pain. Even now I can feel my chest constrict from the memory as I type.

My nadir was yet to be reached. After a little more time passed the doctors came once more to tell me that although they were able to get a pulse from James (with the aide of medication), he could not be saved and died as well. The world's collapse around me was complete.

My family, each one feeling their own devastating grief, surrounded and supported me. They had all found such happiness and joy in Karen, as an individual and not just the woman who meant everything to me, and she had become an immediate and adored member of my family.

I was then taken to see Karen one last time and then upstairs to see and hold my son for the first and only time - I never held him while he was alive. As many of you I am sure know, to try and put into words what I was feeling is an impossibility. It is a devastation that literally transcends comprehension.

It is still impossible for me to believe what has happened; the horror of the day plays over again and again in my head. An autopsy revealed no evident cause of death, i.e., it was not a brain aneurysm, blood clot, etc. The medical examiner is continuing its evaluation, but it could be weeks until more is known, if ever. Indeed I am accepting the very real possibility that a medical explanation for what happened might never be known, just as there is no knowing what the metaphysical explanation is. This reality is bearable only because I was with her when it happened and can assuage my pain with what I saw for myself in that horrible moment. I am 100% certain that she died instantly at the moment she looked at me and before slumping to the table. She didn't struggle for breath or show other signs that she was in pain. It was, as she said as recently as that morning when we saw the end of the Godfather where Marlon Brando has a heart attack while playing with his grandson, the way to go -- quickly and doing something you loved. In this case, Karen was with me, across the table from me, having just finished a meal that she rated a 10 and described as "sublime."

It took 19 years for Karen and I to find each other again, we had 14 months together, three months of marriage, and an entire lifetime of plans. Two weeks ago today was the worst day of my life.

My joy - http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9C00E6DB133DF934A2575BC0A96E9C8B63

My pain - http://www.legacy.com/NYTimes/DeathNotices.asp?Page=LifeStory&PersonID=120369709