  a year ago today I woke up with the thought in fleeting dreaminess that Scott would die today. I never was able to work out the times so I will never know if my thought was a premonition of the death to come or a sensing of my loved one passing on. Months later my grandfather died and I was very troubled that I had not felt either the coming or occurring of his death as I had Scott's. The only answer I could give myself was that I was pregnant when Scott died, and the pregnancy must have heightened my senses to the spiritual world.
Everyone said Scott was supposed to cure cancer, not die from it. This year, with his residency behind him along with his PhD/MD ed, his legendary career as a surgeon was to take off. But in just six and a half months, Scott--he would say call me Bill--went from an amazingly strong, athletic man who trained for marathons and telemark skied, to a man so light that when he fell into his wife's arms at death, she picked him up and set him in bed. Two weeks before he died, I visited them in Minneapolis. It was a beautiful fall there, the way the light hit the leaves at an angle, even at noon, was like a filter on a film screen, and we were all extras on a movie set. Scott, Toni, Devon, Rossanna, Bill, and Greg were the stars. They bravely played their parts without knowing their lines, did their own stunts even. I learned so much about life through Scott's death. The magic mystery I had only associated with birth until then, surrounded Scott as he neared his death.
I wondered why we humans have to be facing down death in order to see so clearly life's priorities. When he talked, he was direct, there was no time or place for wandering innuendo. He wanted to be surrounded with people who loved him, he just lied there in bed loving and being loved. I wanted to crawl into bed with him and hug and cuddle, I still regret that I did not. I left without saying goodbye. I said see you later, but we both knew I wouldn't. My mom told him we're all dying, he just might be dying a little faster.
But he was a physician first, and human second. He had to go from death meaning losing to death meaning resting. His funeral was two hours long. So many people told fantastic stories about the many ways he touched their lives. His parents, his wife and teenaged daughter are together today--huddled close to each other for comfort, seeking him in each other--in Albuquerque. So wherever you are, lift a glass for my cousin William Scott Hays who died tragically and romantically in his wife's arms. A year ago today. 
