Do Over…
It starts this time of year…every year. Every year since 2008, I begin to question my care giving skills. I go over the events of the final week in Leroy’s life and I wish for a “do over.”
I know in my head that will never happen but sometimes my heart over rules my head and I create a scenario where knowing the things I know now, my care-giving would have been a little different than it was those last days of his life. The result wouldn’t have been different; he would have taken that big, last breath at 11:15 pm on August 15th no matter what, but I wonder, did I ease his pain, did I tell him enough times, how much I loved him and how much I would miss him?
That was the part of care giving, his and mine, that we left to the end. THAT, of all things, is what I tell other care givers who are walking the same path; “Don’t wait until the end to express yourself.” Say the words “I love you.” Say the words “I’ll will miss you so much.”
Say it in the “living time.”
We all get so wrapped up in cancer world we forget our other world. There once was a world where our calendar wasn’t filled with doctor appointments, or treatments or scans. We made plans to see friends, go to parties, have a quiet dinner at home or point to a place on a map and just go there. And we would say “I love you.”
So when I say I second guess my care giving at the end, it’s because I don’t think I said those things enough.
What in the world was I thinking?
August 17, 2014 @ 12:56 pm
We wouldn’t be human if we did not have the “what ifs” in life. You know and the rest of us know we did all we could for our loved ones and nothing could have changed the outcome. You have been such a force in the cancer world as a tribute to Leroy and your love for him…
August 13, 2014 @ 3:50 pm
We all wish that we had done more, I have relived the 4 days over and over again. I have the video tape running in my head which captured those events so vividly. Wish I could shut it off and then again, I’m grateful that it captured those events so that I might remember the last moments.
Laurie and all, we did the best we could facing the circumstances we faced. I know that our loved ones knew that we’d do anything to help them, save them or even swap places with them.
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal.” from a headstone in Ireland
August 12, 2014 @ 10:31 pm
Life is full of these feelings. As stated here before, if only this blog had existed when my husband had colorectal cancer. I would have been able to really understand so much about what he was going through and I could have found the kind of help I desperately needed as a caregiver. Oprah has a beautiful tribute to Maya Angelou in her August issue. Among her words:
“but oh, my I cannot tell you what a breakthrough it has been to open myself up to her spiritual presence. I feel her everywhere. In the breeze, in my voice, in every encounter, her spirit abides with me.” Those words resonated with me.
August 12, 2014 @ 9:20 pm
One of the cruelest ironies is the ‘What if’s, if only I’d, could I have…’ No matter what we tell ourselves these thoughts come calling. We can only ask ourselves to forgive and perhaps to ask for forgiveness. Once we begin to forgive ourselves we struggle to believe in it. The grief monster is a cruel and horrible companion.
Laurie I believe that you did all that you could and then stretched to do a little more. Do not listen to those cruel little whispers that tell you you did not.
August 12, 2014 @ 7:36 pm
In our house, I am the verbal one, saying “I love you” whenever. My husband is an “actions speak louder than words” person. Laurie, my observation is that you and Leroy were both verbal and non-verbal and have nothing to regret. But I do understand, especially this week. I may “only” have similar with my parents, but there is a parallel… Mom’s 7th anniversary is later this month, and it’s starting for me already…
Lifting!!
August 12, 2014 @ 7:06 pm
Love finds expression in so many different ways. It need not be spoken to be heard. I, for one, have no doubt Leroy knew how much you loved him. And you go on loving him, and that love is shown every day: the entire time you were with us at NPR, every time you write here, when you drop one of us a private note, visit Johns Hopkins, make a video on a cancer-related topic, advocate, contribute money, hold the hand of someone you’ve met for the first time, travel to Hawaii, whisper at night when no one else is in the room. The one thing cancer can never take from any of us is the love we continue to feel. Love and hugs, dear friend.
August 12, 2014 @ 6:07 pm
Laurie,
Was thinking about Leroy today and mentioned his blog. Hope you are well!
all the best,
Laurie