Forever My Love
Last year, on Tuesday, September 22nd, I was visiting my hubby at Future Care, where he’d been admitted several weeks earlier due to his third stroke in three years. At this point, he’d lost a lot of weight. He was six feet tall, and I doubt he weighed more than 120 pounds. Also, he’d gotten really frail. He worked so hard to make progress after his initial two strokes (The first affected the left side of his body; the second one affected the right side, which was the dominant side). It’s hard to tell which side was more affected this time, but really, it hardly mattered.
After the second stroke, he had to learn entirely new ways of doing everything. I helped him a great deal. Of course, he was grateful, but I know it bothered him that I was doing his chores (grocery shopping, feeding the kitties and cleaning the litter boxes, taking the basket of soiled laundry downstairs to be washed and then bringing them up after they were washed and dried; his two nights to prepare dinner, etc.). It was hard for him to watch me doing these chores, but really, what choice did he have?
We hired Visiting Angels, a wonderful organization! An angel came every day from 9:30 in the morning until 1:30 in the afternoon. They were all were wonderful! They helped Stuart with his personal care: bathing, dressing, using the bathroom, etc.
But that Tuesday, I wasn’t thinking about those things. I was thinking how much love we had for each other; how happy we’d been the past 34 years together. Somewhere inside of me, I knew our time together was limited, but I refused to dwell on that.
We didn’t really talk that day. Talking was difficult for him. I had lain on the bed with his front curling around my back. We weren’t talking; just spooning and hugging. He wouldn’t have been able to hear anything I said anyway because his hearing had diminished, and I was facing away from him. Besides, there really wasn’t anything to say. We each knew what the other was thinking: “I love you. I don’t want to leave you.” (him). “I love you. I don’t want to lose you.’ (me).
When he started to move parts of his body, I knew he was uncomfortable. I turned and kissed him. “Honey, I have to go home and feed Missy. I know you can’t be comfortable like this.” I kissed him once more. “Bye, Honey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I love you, Babe,” he said.
“Ditto!”
He laughed.
The next morning, the phone rang at 8:00, waking me up. Normally, I wouldn’t answer the phone at that ungodly hour, but somehow, I knew. Before I got downstairs, I heard Meredith’s message begin and knew what I feared was real.
I picked up the receiver while she was in the middle of her sentence. I could hear her tears when she said, “Dad’s gone.”
“I’Il be there in five minutes.” I said as my own tears were falling.
That was the beginning of the end. I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to live the rest of my life.
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