Reflections On A Life - My Husband

It's been nearly a month since CB passed away and I can say that I think I am coping. Some days are better than others. I friend sent me a book on grief, and in it someone describe the feeling as standing in the ocean and feeling the waves wash up on you, nearly knocking you down, and then moving away and coming back. That kind of is how it feels. Some days I am fine, laughing, talking, eating, feeling joy. Then all of a sudden, I feel waves of sorrow and grief wash over me. Some commercial, or a picture, or a thought that I need to go to Home Depot for something will nearly bring me to my needs, and I will find myself crying and asking why he had to leave me. During the last month of his life, it was like the worst of times and the best of times. The doctors had told CB that there was nothing they could do. We got 2nd opinions that said the same thing. CB told our family and friends about the prognosis, and I spent days being mad at him for choosing death over life. My sister-in-law sent us over 50 pages of healing scriptures. We were raised as Baptists, and neither of us ever knew that you could ask God for a healing. But we did. We prayed, we praised, we talk to God day and night. We watched testimonies of healing, we listened to songs of praise and worship. In the process, our relationship became deeper and more meaningful. We had never, ever been as close as we were during that time. I had made a vow to talk about everything, to ask all the questions that I wanted to ask. All those questions I was afraid to ask my mom: Are you afraid to die? Do you believe in heaven and hell? And many others. He talked, he answered them all, and offered even more. He talked to our sons, told them about the warrantee on his truck, he told them to take care of me, to be strong for me. About 2 weeks before his death, I was talking with a friend, and I think I was worrying about how we were asking God for CB to be healed, that as children of Christ it was our right, and that even when the body is weak, and you think you can't stand anymore, you still stand up and thank God for his healing. I was scared. His body was getting weaker. My friend, cautiously responded that maybe what we were doing, all the praying and praising wasn't about a physical healing but rather a spiritual healing in preparation of CB going to heaven. That hurt me so bad. The human, selfish part of me only wanted my husband to heal and to stay here with me. But of course, she was absolutely correct. CB was so at peace. He told me that he wasn't afraid. He had repented all his sins, he felt like he had had a good life, had tried to be the best person, husband, father, son, sibling and friend that he could be. His only worry was for his family, and he handled that by talking to his friends and family and asking them to keep a look out for us, to help me when I was sad, to fix things around the house, to just be there for us. That was CB. Still taking care of business! On Sunday, May 30th, the doctor told us that the time was getting close, and we needed to start saying our good-byes. We did. We talked to him, we touched him, we simply sat with him, we prayed with him. I told everyone that I could not stand the thought of being there when he took his last breaths. That I hadn't been there when my parents passed away, and I knew I couldn't do that with him. On Memorial Day, I got to the hospice at 1pm with every intention of staying until about 9pm. Our neighbors and my cousin came by to say their good-byes and then I just sat there with him. The facility manager had told me that he sensed me in the room, and that although he wasn't speaking, he knew I was there. After they left, I just say there for awhile, working on my laptop and just talking to him. Then all of a sudden, I knew. I knew that he would leave me that day. I got scared. I had to leave. I felt like the hounds of hell were after me. I packed up my laptop, and stood up. Calmed myself, and walked over to him, sat down on the bed, and kissed him on the cheek and forehead. I whispered in his ear that I loved him more than anything, that we were going to be ok, that it was time for him to let go. I told him to tell my Mama and Daddy and his Dad hello, and for him to rest. I walked out of his room and went home. At 9:15pm, I called to check on him, and the nurse said that he was resting. She said that he had been moaning some earlier, and they had given him morphine. She really wanted to give him Ativan to calm him down, but you can only give it to him every 6 hrs, and it wasn't time. I told her I would call back before I went to bed. Less than 15 minutes later, she called back. She said that she had gone in to check on CB and he was taking his last breaths, that he had passed away peacefully. I told her we would be right there. He looked like he was sleep, that's all. No pain, no weariness, just healing sleep. We stayed with him for about and hour, said good-bye one last time, and left him forever. After that, there was just a lot of taking care of business. He wanted to be cremated, and he was. Plans had to be made, people had to be called, everything in preparation of ending a life. I am such a strong person. Always have been. I didn't fall apart when my parents passed away. I had too much to get done. I have 4 brothers, and really, they fell apart immediately when our parents passed, so I had no choice. My time came long after. With my husband, it's different. I don't feel strong. I feel like I'm barely hanging on. It hit me again tonight. I picked up my phone to call someone, and couldn't think of a single person that I thought could help me. I knew that I would end up trying to make them feel better. I'm trying not to be a burden on anyone. I don't want people worrying about me, so I decided to write this to my cyber family. I have received such care and concern from you all. I wanted you to know that I hadn't forgotten about this place in space. I want to thank you all for listening to me (through words), for offering prayers and positive thoughts and advice. I'll never forget my time here, and I promise to come back again to update you on our progress and to offer comfort to others in need.

Thanks for everything,

Carolyn