Did he feel my fingers laced through his?  I was holding on so tightly, trying in my own way to chase away death by pulsing life from my hand to his.

Did he hear what I was saying?  I think I was whispering and I’m not sure why.  I should have been screaming, “Don’t die.”  But, I knew death was in the room and it was only a matter of minutes until it would claim its victim. 

Leroy’s death left me, the caregiver, with all the same questions Ned and Kathie raise.  I don’t think we really question how much of ourselves we put into the fight. We KNOW that… Our questions parallel the unknown.  Questions left unaswered. 

There wasn’t much left of me after that night of August 15, 2008.  I was exhausted. The disease had taken every ounce of reserves I had left.   What ever the magic potion was that kept my heart beating through those final stages of the battle, were down to their last drops. 

 Had I let Leroy down at the end of his struggle?  Could I have done more?  Did he see the cracks in my armor?

If I’d get another chance, what would I do differently? 

It’s not easy to go there….

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