Smoking With Tony Part 2

When my son, Tony, was 11 or 12 he made an ashtray in art class. He scratched his initial “T” in the bottom of the ashtray, brought it home and gave it to me. I managed to keep track of it over the years and still have it almost 40 years later. It’s always been around, but we only used it when we needed an extra ashtray. I didn’t want to break it, which seems to be my habit with anything breakable if I use it long enough. I’ve broken many ashtrays, vases, glasses, and bones over the years. Since Tony passed away last winter, I’ve been using it more often. Some evenings I would notice it sitting on the extra table and think to myself, I think I will smoke with Tony tonight. I would exchange it with the regular ashtray, set it down and say to myself, “Hey, honey, mind if I have a smoke with you tonight?” Or, “Hi, honey, let’s have a smoke together.” I would light a cigarette and just sit and reflect for a minute or three about Tony. Sometimes it brought a smile to my face, sometimes it brought tears to my eyes. Whenever someone who smoked stopped by, I would hand them Tony’s ashtray and tell them they could have a smoke with Tony.

When Tony passed away in December, we held a Celebration of Life Service. But since we were going to bury his ashes in northern Minnesota where I was raised, we decided to wait until spring to bury his ashes. Tony’s ashes were going to be buried in my mom’s plot (she’s not there yet…give thanks to the spirits in her soul and mine). It wouldn’t cost as much in the spring once the ground thawed, and who wants to stand around a grave in December, in northern Minnesota? As far as I am concerned that would really interfere with our grieving process. So we decided to wait until spring. In March my aunt died and it was decided they would postpone her Celebration of Life Service until the sister from California could be there. Her ashes were also going to be buried on my Mom’s plot. We then decided to wait until then to bury Tony’s ashes at the same time as my aunt’s. The family that would be there for one would be there for both. Plus we would only have to pay for the grave to be opened once.

So, about two weeks before the date we had scheduled to bury Tony’s ashes, the pain of losing Tony came to the forefront and took over my heart, even while walking through the pain of moving my husband to memory care. Thoughts about Tony were ever-present in my mind and weighing on my heart. I talked about Tony a lot more, especially with Alice. I started using Tony’s ashtray every night when I got home and wound down from my day while sitting in the garage (very comfortably, I might add) smoking and playing my games on my tablet. I would say to Tony “Honey, I gotta smoke with you tonight, I’m really missing you.” It really rested my soul and helped me sort out some of what I was feeling over those many days.

About a week after I started smoking every night with Tony, I wrote the post about the fun couple of visits with my husband and how I was able to still enjoy his sense of humor and conversation with him. I will treasure those memories as we continue to walk through my husband’s end of life journey. I’m so glad I paused and reflected on the joy I experienced in those visits, and shared them here and with friends. The very next day things did not go so well. He had a dentist appointment in the small town we lived in.When I picked him up he was glad to see me and in a pretty good mood. However, by the time he was done at the dentist, I think he was worn out and overstimulated by all the activity. We were no sooner in the truck when his good mood disappeared and he became very agitated, primarily by the same things as always…why was I doing this to him, what makes me think I have the right to decide he has to be where he is, I’m not always right, I just want to have control of everything.

The original plan was to take him to dinner after his dentist appointment, but very soon, I was on a mission to get him back to Memory Care before he disintegrated completely. We didn’t quite make it back before things got pretty ugly, especially when we arrived and he realized we weren’t going to dinner. I don’t recall how long it took to bribe/cajole him into going inside without having to deploy emergency help to force him back in, but it felt like hours. He was still pretty agitated, but eventually realized he had no choice but to go in.

I left and got into the truck to go home. Before I even left the parking lot I texted a bit with Alice. We’ve had many conversations over the last two months about me being separated from Loren, both physically and emotionally. It’s been even more challenging in the last two months since I moved him to Memory Care vs. the first few years of losing pieces of him while he was still with me. I thought this whole “Long Goodbye thing” of losing him to Alzheimer’s was for the birds, I wasn’t liking it at all. Not that I wanted him to go faster, but that the pain of losing the pieces of the man I love over a long time…no words. But, after he moved to Memory Care, it got a whole lot tougher. When he was still at home, we could still be there for each other the best we could, considering the circumstances. All of sudden not only was I reeling from the trauma of physically getting him into Memory Care and trying to reconcile to the fact that I was now living alone, now I realized, I had to give up (at least for now, hopefully not forever yet) being able to connect with him and be there for him because it was recommended I not visit for a week to 10 days and give him time to settle into his new routine. Standard procedure, I guess. When I did start visiting, he was still so angry at me for being responsible for him being there, he wouldn’t connect with me and I eventually, I couldn’t connect with him until he decided he would let me because after wounding his heart so deeply for doing this to him and not being able to understand why, I didn’t know if he could ever trust me again. It crushed me because I would never have wanted to wound him in that way. I loved him too much for that. But, I was forced to be the “bad guy” because of that love. But even though I’m the “bad guy”, that same love would never let me abandon him during his “end of life” process. So, I’m still on that emotional roller coaster as I continue to try to be there for him, even when he doesn’t want me to.

The following is our conversation verbatim:

Chick: Please tell me why the hell I’m doing this? He turned on a dime, attacking me on the way back.

Alice: I’m sorry

It’s his cycle now.

Chick: You’re right, but I struggle with it.

I’m going home and gonna get stoned.

Alice: Company?

Chick: Yeah if you’re up to it

Alice came over a bit after I got back home. My next post will bring it all back together and you will see why even though the title is about smoking with Tony, I talked about my husband a lot too. The combined events I talked about are what culminated in what’s about to happen…Later