Unwrapping My Mind

Before I begin…please know this…I am not writing this for sympathy.  I am writing it as a part of processing it for myself, as well as to continue to follow our mission to openly and honestly share our struggles and paths of healing.

As you know, my husband passed away in his sleep a week ago Monday.  He’s at peace now.  We are grateful that he still knew us and knew he loved us and he didn’t have to suffer through the worst to come.

But, HOLY COW!  REALLY?  Nobody really expected him to go this quickly.   The first few days I really was in shock.  The interesting thing to me, though, is how my mind went about processing the information.

One of our closest friends was driving me to the airport when I got a call from the hospice nurse.  I was on my way to visit my best friend in Florida for a week.  When the nurse first started talking to me, I thought to myself (why is she calling me?  She must of dialed me instead of who she needed to talk to).  I think it was about the third time she said that he had died during the night that I finally realized that she was calling me to tell me my husband was dead.  We aborted the trip to the airport and got to Memory Care the same time as the hospice nurse.

At Memory Care we were able to see him one more time before he was moved.  I have to tell you, looking at him lying in the bed, not alive, was almost incomprehensible to me.  I had just seen him two days before and watched him crawl into bed to rest and watch TV as I was leaving.  He was alive in that bed when I left, but not any more.  After I said my goodbyes, my mind quit working.  Literally.  I’m typically the person you can rely on in a crisis…assess the issue, take charge and figure out what needs to happen.  I guess my mind couldn’t get past the assess the issue part and come up with the next steps. I stood by his bed and stretched out both arms and started waving my hands back and forth saying “I don’t know what to do!".  I couldn’t even figure out how to turn around and leave the room.  With a little bit of help and explanation of what happens next, I was able to walk out of the room.  I spoke with a couple of the nurses and staff that worked with him.  They reassured me that it really was better for him (and the family) for him to go before he hit the severe stage.  He was cognitive enough for conversation, although short on memory during conversation, he was still keeping up with what was happening with our family and friends, more or less.  However, he was extremely unhappy (and sometimes very angry) about the fact that he wasn’t with me like married people are supposed to be.  Although he was well-taken care of and they involved him in what they could get him to do and even the food was pretty decent.  But he wasn’t with me and that’s all he really wanted in life now, especially since there was nothing else left in his life.  One other thing.  When we walked into the room, he really did look like he was at peace.  However, one of his eyes was still half open.  I swear he kept one eye open and was waiting to see if I would come tell him goodbye.  (Smile).  I would like to think so, but think whatever you want…I’m just giving you a glimpse into my mind.  It is a scary place sometimes, but never fear, we won’t get too deep.

I had texted Alice and she arrived at my house shortly after our friend brought me home.  The three of us sat and talked awhile about what had just happened, etc.  I believe there was some crying involved.  We talked about what next steps were, because remember, I was a fucking zombie by this time and had difficulty thinking through everything.  Thank the universe for both of them.  I needed to talk and process, but I was such a blank.  Alice said I needed to eat so after a while we left to get our  energy drinks and breakfast sandwich. Our friend said he would make the calls to our biker friends and headed out.

On the way home, Alice told me she didn’t want me to be alone and insisted I hang out with her for a while.  After a bit of protest on my part (I’m grown, don’t need nobody to take care of me…), I agreed.  I really was grateful.  Between the energy drink, smoking, and talking with Alice I started to come back to earth.  Then I realized how tired I really was.  I had only a few hours of sleep before leaving for the airport and my body had had enough.  I went home and took a six-plus hour nap was up for about four-five hours and went back to bed for another twelve hours.

Okay, enough about the events.  The real thing I want to get to is the processing of my mind over the next few days.  The next day, I was still in shock.  Even though I saw him with my own eyes, I was still having trouble believing that he was really gone.  Later that evening I started to reconcile my mind with the fact that I was alone for the first time in over 41 years.  I knew that it wasn’t about being physically alone.  I had actually been enjoying the last nine months alone while he was in memory care.  My house was my safe and comfy place where I could re-charge with nobody in the house wanting something at any given time, especially as he was declining and needed a lot more attention.  Alice and I talked about it because I was having a bit of trouble identifying it in order to process it.  For over 41 years it has been a partnership.  It was never about him or me, just us.  We discussed everything and major decisions were made only after careful consideration of the impact to our life together.  How Alice explained it is that with the love and connection we had with each other, during our life together, we shared that energy and it was bigger than either one of us.  Even though he was declining cognitively, while he was still here, he was still a part of that energy, although in a different way and I was still very connected to him, again in a little bit different way as I was losing him.  Now that he’s gone, all of a sudden that energy no longer exists the way it did.  I will still have the energy of my memories, but when it comes down to it, it is just me. I’m not scared of it.  I know I will be OK and I have the confidence in myself to continue to live my life the best I can.  But, I had his energy for two thirds of my life.  I’ll be missing it always, I suspect.

The other thing that really struck me in those first few days was what it took to wrap my mind around the fact that all the planning I had been doing with the knowledge in mind that he was still here and still needed some of his things and my care and love.  Now as I think about what needs to be done, I find myself struggling to remember that the decisions are different now that he’s gone.  Different considerations now.

We held a Celebration of Life on Saturday and will bury him at the VA Cemetery on Wednesday.  I learned with the death of my father a few years ago how important all this process is as we grieve.  I felt the love and strength from our family and friends and it’s really helping to shore me up while I find my way on my own.  I’m actually looking forward to the next part of my life’s journey and excited about our 50-state motorcycle ride.  He was even supportive in that even though it could take me away for a while if he was still here.  He was an amazing man and I was fortunate to be able to love him for so long.

Peace and Love,

Chick