It’s NOT Easy to Go There..
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….
March 29, 2011 @ 12:07 am
Despair and doubt are always waiting patiently. They bounce after the initial shock wears away and they are always ready to move in when their partners,frustration and exhaustion, crack open the door. Our unbeatable defense lies in the courage and dignity of living the life worth living. We are a people of hope. we know the value of time.
March 28, 2011 @ 4:31 pm
I’m not sure a day goes by that I don’t question my response to Jim’s illness. I know I took good care of him and showed him how much I loved him and never lost my patience with him but was it enough? I was in denial during the last month and I think everyone around us could see how close the end was but I didn’t. Even the doctors, until 10 days prior to his death, didn’t tell me how close it was. In fairness to them however, it did come sooner than even they expected but I should have been seeing the signs and got on that plane to Paris with him in tow for a last adventure. I should have wedged myself into his hospital bed that last night, I should have told him how much I loved him more than I did and I could write for pages on those kinds of regrets but it doesn’t change the fact that he is not here to hold me or give me that smile that said he loved me with all his heart. I think every widow/widower probably has this same story much like we all cry in our cars all the time apparently. Cancer has basically sucked the life out of both of us but I am left here to fight on my own. It is a terribly lonely life.
March 28, 2011 @ 3:55 pm
I just found this blog via receiving the Kimmel newsletter on line.
I’m a caregiver. I know it sounds trite, but THANK YOU for your post. The wife-caregiver is such a…dance.