This day, last year, was a Thursday. We had been at OHSU in Oregon for 6 days.
The medical team there were very good to us; they treated us like family, and spoke to us about Bob’s situation & condition in language we could understand. Bob’s assigned room attendants were very good with him – and to him. I was thankful. Bob was a good man, he deserved to be treated with respect and dignity. The Nurse’s Station team and Bob’s personal nurse loved him: Bob was an easy man to love.
Elohim was merciful and gracious towards us.
Elohim was merciful and gracious towards us.
In the mid-morning hours, the physician’s team with Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Morgan came to our room and spoke to us about placing a stent between the stomach and pancreas. The surgical team had Bob scheduled for that procedure at 7 PM that evening. Bob would also be moved to the Penthouse Room – the best room on the floor: it was a much larger room, and would be able to accommodate the entire family. It also had a very picturesque view:
The Penthouse Room - the best of the best at OHSU "Hilton Hospital"
View of Mt. Hood from OHSU "penthouse room". Very roomy. Very nice.
Bob was transferred to the Penthouse Room, and we settled in – waiting. We looked into the distance at Mt. Hood; and wished to be there instead of in a hospital room with death stalking us. I also watched the Air Trams zip back and forth …
Our 3 hours of luxury was cut short when Bob’s heart rhythms started giving the staff concern: he was shifted down to ICU ER:
Bob had lost SO MUCH weight because of starvation. His stomach was painfully bloated, and edema was running rampant ... but weight gain from nutrition was not happening. Everyone could see that underneath the excess water build-up and pancreatic stomach bloat, Bob was basically skin and bones. It was sad to see. I cried when Bob slept. I loved him & I needed to be strong for him when he was awake. I was already missing him ...
Bob's erratic between 140 to 117 heart beats per minute had to be bought down to the lower 90's to move forward.
In 348 hours, there would no longer be any reason to wait for anything …
Today, on this day, this healing process thing is tricky: it’s always 1 step forward, 2 steps back. And I am always feeling like 2 separate {me’s}, sharing the same body – and I don’t know how to resolve that.
One of me is grappling with the loss of my husband’s physical presence in my life: how his illness played out, coming to terms with the unfixable rent in the tapestry of what was our life together, trying to adjust to the echoing emptiness of a house and life where the sound of Bob will never again reverberate. Bob has been walking the golden streets of Heaven, and riding the clouds overhead for 348 days/22 hours & 19 minutes: I know Bob, like Yeshua, walks beside me every day and is aware of what I do and say … I know I am not truly alone, yet – I am lonely for him: my eyes are starved for his face, my ears long for his voice, my mouth misses his mouth, my hands are restless – they want to touch him, and my feet itch to run to him; my body aches for his body. This {me} throbs all over with the agony of his absence. Tears come easily to this {me}; and each breath is painful – there is never a second of any given day (or night) where my husband is not in my thoughts consciously, or unconsciously. Bob has always been a part of me. Bob will always be a part of me. Bob was created to fit my life; and now he is gone from my life. My life misses him in it. I was very happy in that life. This {me} is having a hard time adjusting to the loss of my husband, and my old life.
The other {me} is bravely moving into a new life. This other {me} has reacquainted herself with a long-forgotten self – the self that existed before Bob came into my life: that self with a badass reputation and a kickass mentality – the self that pushed boundaries and moved people out of her way when they got in her way. I didn’t need this other {me} after Bob came into my life; but I do need this other {me} now that Bob’s essence has exited my life, to help me move into the future because my present circumstances have the cockroaches of society coming out of the woodwork to harass and torment. And Bob is no longer here to offer me his arms as safe harbor to run and snuggle into. My only safety net now is this other {me}. I don’t know what my new life will look like, but I do know that it will be drastically different than my old life because I am effectively eliminating the cockroaches that come out of hiding and show themselves.
Both of these {me’s} are intertwined and have Bob’s imprint on them. In that regard they are actually one and the same, because love connects them … making the 2, one. The new could not exist without the old – and the old lays the foundation for the new.
It isn’t that I don’t want to resolve my grief – or that I’m not open to change. It isn’t that I am fearful of the future … it’s just that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to really shake Grief: Bob will always be a huge part of my life, whether in the past, or in the future; Bob will always be in my life. And, I’ve changed a lot since December 14th, 2018 made me a widow: A LOT. Aside from littering the landscape of my evolving life with F-Bombs and shocking people with the onslaught, the evolution of change in my new life has been relatively painless (except when the missing of Bob overwhelms me). I don’t fear the future – it’s more like a feeling of trepidatiousness: a need to draw on courage. The loss of my husband, and my old life has left me disoriented and unclear on which way to go as I move forward.
And there is always someone … WHO WAS NOT THERE, WITH US … feeling free to make judgments towards me; concerning our situation and the way we dealt with it. They were not there. They do not know. Yet they continue to flap their yap with malicious twaddle designed to wound.
(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/if-you-met-my-family-you-would.html)
(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/if-you-met-my-family-you-would.html)
That’s why, today, this day, there are 2 {me’s} living one life, where the old and the new dovetail.
Daily I call on Elohim and rest in Yeshua.
Adonai Yeshua is gracious and righteous: He understands sorrow, and is full of compassion.
Love and grief, hand in hand.
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