Tuesday, June 23, 2015

a letter to Mr. W.

Dear Mike

It's been nearly a month since you've gone.  I can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that you are not here.  My brain wants to understand, but my heart just can't.

I wake each morning and stare at your pillow.   The mornings are so quiet.  Sure, the dogs are anxious to go out, but even their demeanor has changed.  They just wait patiently for me to shower, knowing I will tend to them soon enough.  Each day, when I leave for work, I say out loud, "I'll be careful", as those were always the last words you said to me each morning.

Inevitably, a song will come on the radio that reminds me of "us".  I cry a lot in the car.   I talk out loud to you in the car.  Do you hear me?  I know you are there, critiquing my driving, as always.  I find myself watching the gauge on my gas tank now - that was also your job.... 

As I leave my office each day, I stare down at my phone, as I always called you before I even reached my car.  The ride home is always so quiet.... My eyes fill with tears as I pull into the driveway each afternoon....still not believing that you are not in the house waiting for me. 

We always talked about how amazing our kids were, but I hope you are seeing them now.  Michael and Bobby call me twice a day!  They are in and out of the house taking care of things that only you would remember to do.   They are working so hard to ease my pain and loneliness.  I can see so much of you in both of them.  You taught them well.  I hear from Allison everyday - no matter where she is in the world!  Michelle is always so strong for me; and you know that is not easy for her.  I hope you are proud of our kids... I know I am.

Friends and neighbors have been so thoughtful.  They all check up on me, without being intrusive.  Everyone wants to make sure I am eating okay - it is so sweet.   I hear from all the cousins - every day a different one sends a text or calls.  I hope you can see now what an impact you had on so many people. 

People try to say the 'right' things to me.  They remind me that you fought so hard and that you are  no longer in pain.  I guess that should comfort me.... My least favorite sentiment is, "Mike is in a better place now."  I will never believe there is a better place than right by my side.

In the evenings, the silence in the house can be deafening at times... to fill the time, I "rewind the tape and replay the memories" we've made throughout the years.  That makes me smile and cry.  We had a good life filled with blessings. 

They say time heals all wounds.  They never say how much time ....

Love you always.

Monday, June 15, 2015

Resting in Peace

It's been three weeks, but it is all still so surreal to me....

It was just before Memorial Day weekend.  Mike was getting a little worse each day.  On Wednesday night, he was struggling to swallow pills to kill his pain.  He finally agreed to let me call Hospice in the morning.  Hospice arrived on Thursday and hooked him up to a pain pump that evening.

He slept comfortably Thursday night and Friday was uneventful.  The kids were at the house all weekend.  I knew they would find comfort being there and with eachother.  Allison's friend was so thoughtful as to have food delivered all weekend for us. 

The kids took turns sitting on the bed talking to Mike.  He had alone time with each of them and we had a lot of together time in the room, also.  He alternated between sleep and awake.  His pain was under control.  We each made a special memory with him, I am sure.

On Monday morning, I exited my bathroom just to see his smiling face and hear him say, "Good morning, beautiful".  While I was showering, he got out of bed and got dressed.  He called me to him and gave me the best hug.  I asked him why he was dressed and he said, "Oh, I'm going."  I said, "Going where?"  "Going to sleep." he replied.

The kids arrived on Monday.  They were so happy to see him all dressed.  He even insisted on walking into the livingroom to be with them all.  He put his hands on my shoulders and walked behind me.  We walked passed the hallway mirror and I stopped to do a cha-cha step, him laughing all the way!  He announced to the kids, "Dead man walking!"  When he finally sat in the chair, he dropped his head to the side as if to "fake his death."  A sense of humor, right to the end, what a gift for us all!  Towards the end of the evening he said to me in a semi-whisper, "Why are they all still here?!?"  At one point, he drew me close and held me tight and said, "Come with me?"  I told him I still had so much to do here, but it was ok with me if he went first and saved a place for me.

He was pretty restless Monday night and Tuesday morning.  He was not really conscious at all by Tuesday afternoon.  The kids all came and I sent them home.  I just laid next to him, holding his hand and stroking his hair.  I talked to him for hours.  I reassured him that it was okay for him to go.  I reminded him that we raised great kids who would always make us proud.  I told him to please keep  his promise to watch over me and I promised to never stop looking for the signs that he was with me.  He quietly slipped away....

My quiet, unassuming, humble husband was honored by over 300 people at the wake/funeral.  What a testament to the man he was.....