I'm lounging in bed right now sipping my tea, and experiencing my first morning on this journey. There was no turning his coffee on as I put my tea water on to boil, or calling him to see how is doing. No going over to the hospital or nursing home for a visit. That is sad beyond what words can express. Yet again, there is the relief of knowing there is no more suffering for him.
Christopher and his family will be here Tuesday morning. I am so glad Chris understands why I handled certain things at the end the way I did, and will be handling other things. Chris and his family will be such a source of strength to me. Losing my husband is very hard. But, I have to keep it together and be here as long as I can for Chris and his family.
One of the many things going on the journey I did with Larry taught me is to really, I mean REALLY appreciate life. That's why although I do greatly mourn his loss, I am going to go on with living. If were to just curl up into a ball of depression and stop living, it would be dishonoring him, and the brave battle he fought all these months. Watching him struggling for breath, unable to do what he wanted, but doing everything he could made me so very determined to live every moment of life to the max I can, no matter what happened. If he could fight so damn hard for even that last breath, then I can keep myself together and live a life that honors that valiant battle.
I've done everything on my To Do list for today. Right now I just make a short list of a few things to get done each day so that I am not overwhelmed by it all. Today I called the banks, paid a credit card, and took care of the cremation arrangements. Larry would never discuss funeral arrangements other than to say he wanted to cremated, and that I better not spend a bunch of money on a funeral he didn't want. Larry never accepted he could lose the battle until the very end. By then, he could no speak. Once he did say he liked the private memorial service my dad's friends had for him, so I'm going to put together something like that for Larry. It will be a celebration of his life, of his courage and bravery.
I was sitting out on the deck earlier, listening to wind rustling through the tree branches, and growing sad thinking how Larry had come to hate the wind because if it hit him just right, it sucked the oxygen from his nasal cannula out. Then suddenly I felt him, in the wind. Reveling in being a part of the air he no longer struggled to breath. Free finally from the constant shortness of breath. Free from oxygen hoses, chemo treatments, free from all the burdens he had born so bravely as he fought for life. He is free from all these worldly cares and burdens. A part of all that is around me.
