It was only five minutes. But sometimes five minutes can feel like five years, or five decades or five centuries. Those five minutes I’ll never forget. That is until I get Dementia, or Alzheimers, or I get in a bad car accident and hit my head and loose all my memories. We always joke about this. But then when I was standing there by the fireplace on the phone to my estranged husband I thought no joke could convey the horror.

What stands out that seems to go unnoticed by the interviewers is before that. The phone started ringing on the my coffee table and I was grading some papers. Normally I wouldn’t ever answer an unknown number. Since this all came up, I started picking up just in case it was connected. It took two shrill beeps for me to draw away from my work. I stared at the screen, almost until my eyes were watering.

Until five rings did I press answer. Almost with no hesitation and a slight roll of my eyes I placed the cold glass to my ear.

“Hey baby…I’m gonna miss you… I know…I know I messed up…I’m sorry” my husbands faint sobs echoed through the cell. All I could do was comfort my soon-to-be late husband.