One Year: In Memory of Thomas R. Waters
October 29, 2014 was a beautiful, sunny day. Shortly after lunch, my husband, Tom donned his gear, including his helmet, and set out for his daily bicycle ride. He rode fifteen to twenty-two miles every day. He was dedicated. I’m a writer, so I sat down at my computer to continue work on the novel I was drafting. Tom had not been gone but a few minutes when my cell phone rang. It was 1:13. “Mrs. Waters?” “Yes.” The caller told me Tom had been in an accident on his bike. Someone had already called 9-1-1. Apparently Tom’s front tire dropped off the pavement. He was thrown into a tree. I was out the door and headed to the site before hanging up with the unidentified man on the other end of the line. I arrived on the scene as the paramedics were beginning to assess his injuries. “Can’t breathe,” Tom whispered. The paramedics offered to help him to a sitting position to see if that would help. He nodded. But as they raised him up, he passed out. The only visible injurie...