My life has changed so much since December 2018. I remarried January 7th, 2023 ... we sold the house, sold our vehicles - and bought a new 4x, a puppy, & a 5th Wheel to travel the mainland States and experience life in the slow lane. As always I record e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. happening in my life: I will share lots of pics & vids of our USA travels: I hope you enjoy our Blog.
“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, yet our inner self is being renewed day by day." (2 Corinthians 4:16)
Last night, I slept on my husband’s side of the bed – I have been alternating his side/my side for a few months now, and the last thing I thought before the sandman helped me drift off to sleep was, ‘tonight I am sleeping on my husband’s side of the bed wishing he were here with me … and this time last year, I was standing by the side of my husband’s hospital bed holding his hand, watching him breathe, and wishing he weren’t leaving me’.
Last year, today, was a rough morning; I played a lot of inspirational music throughout the day, for Bob. It soothed. Bob was partial to southern gospel music. I chose songs that would strengthen his spirit for the journey ahead.
Last year, on this morning - today, my poor Babe had a rough go of things since his MRI the previous night; the staff at OHSU had gotten to it late, and it was a hassle from the get-go; all morning long, Bob struggled with unrelenting nausea. Watching him struggle with the nausea and vomit nonstop had me struggling to keep my temper. I wished the Team would just DO whatever they intended to do … without any more tests. Bob had had enough testing, blood drawing, Xrays, scans, and ultrasound imaging at Peace Health hospital back home to last him a lifetime. I just wanted things moving forward, and done. And it seemed to me that the ‘highly educated’ and ‘top of the line’ people at OHSU were just behaving like regular folk doing regular things. It was frustrating for me to watch, and hard for Bob to deal with in his fragile condition.
Around 1:44 in the afternoon, Dr. Yip stopped in to give us his educated assessment on Bob’s condition given the results of the MRI and following testings. It was not encouraging. Dr. Yip informed us that Bob would have to undergo a procedure ‘to remove most of his pancreas, due to dead tissue’. The sad condition of his pancreas is why Bob was in so much pain and had so much trouble keeping anything down. Dr. Yip also told us that it is assumed that Bob’s situation is a heredity issue since there were no other indicators as to why Bob was suddenly struck with this affliction in August. Apparently, where there is familial history of gall stones and diabetes, pancreatitis will also raise its ugly head. Bob’s siblings have all suffered with gall stones; and his dad was a diabetic. Bob's sister, Bonnie, also deals with pancreatitis - we did not know that then. Would that information have helped? Who knows. It doesn't matter now ... and Bob wouldn't have wanted to live his life in the "what if" fear of the situation, anyway.
After that informative speech, Bob was shell shocked, and I couldn’t stop crying. The news was not at all what we were anticipating, or hoping for. The hope held out to us when we arrived at OHSU was no longer in play.
But, through it all, we continued to lean on Elohei, trust in Yeshua, and rely on The Ruach Ha’Kodesh. In this we were unshakable though all other ground was being shaken.
So, I set the ipod up and filled our immediate space in his private room with music he enjoyed that lifted our souls and buoyed our spirits. These are the songs I played for Bob - today, last year ... and I listen to them still; and am renewed day by day.
Tuesday night I had trouble getting to sleep, and
had finally managed to close my eyes around 4:30 AM … when the phone jolted me
awake around 8:30 AM – Ryan, the fella coming to clean my gutters, was calling
to tell me he was on his way. Great. I was glad the gutters were getting
cleaned, but I was also very tired: I have had several no-sleep-nights all
month long; they are beginning to take their toll. As I was staggering around
trying to shake the cobwebs from my brain and make myself presentable, the
phone kept ringing: my niece Sara, who we had raised as our own daughter from
infancy to age 12, who now lives in Nevada with her daughters; was touching
base to make sure I was okay – I told her I am, and we talked until 9:30 AM.
And Cheryl called: for the same reason … to make sure I am okay, and to ask me
to Thanksgiving Supper tomorrow. I told her I am okay, but I will pass on
going to their home tomorrow. I thanked her; and I do appreciate her and
Mike – they are good friends; but I am not feeling very festive, and I am
crying at the drop of a hat lately, so I think it is best I just hunker down at
home and get through these ‘Memory Lane’ slideshows & the triggered
emotions, solo. There will be plenty of time after the first of the New Year to
get together and schmooze. Ryan pulled into the carport as I was saying TTYL to
Cheryl: the gutters were cleaned, he was paid – we chatted for a bit, and I am
thinking I need to get outside and sweep the leaves out of the carport … that
will get done after Thanksgiving.
It was Wednesday and the hair salon would still be
open (closed tomorrow for Thanksgiving) so seeing my image in the mirror
and knowing I needed my hair trimmed … into town I went. I stopped at Fred
Meyers for gas afterwards, and found that what I paid for a tank of gas just
last month will only get me a quarter of a tank this month. So, if anyone tells
you there is “no gas price gouging” going on during the holiday season – that
IS FAKE NEWS. Believe me, there is gas gouging going on. And Freddies is not
the only place in town that has hiked their gas prices to prey on holiday
travelers.
Pocketing the gas receipt, I remembered that I
was told last December when I had Bob’s name removed from the Xfinity account,
that Xfinity rates would be going up again this December (aka: my widow
sympathies would end in a year’s time), so I decided to drive across town to
the town office and pay the monthly bill there so I could find out what to
expect with the price increase; and was told the new adjusted rate: so,
because I am living on fixed income, I had the internet speed reduced and I
am satisfied with the monthly rate going into 2020. I figure I can live with a
reduced speed internet (I’m not ‘streaming’ anything that requires maximum
speed); I use my laptop to Blog, FB every now and then … and any movies I
want to watch, I watch on Youtube. I think the reduced internet speed will be
okay.
On my way back home, I veered into Winco’s
parking lot, and did my grocery shopping. And, I stopped at Lowe’s to buy a
festive coir porch mat for the carport porch. Going there was emotional – Bob
& I spent a lot of time at Lowe’s trying to get this home where it is now: Bob
was handy with tools; and he could fix, design, and craft … whatever was
needed, I had a husband that could do it. I bought our updated home décor
at Lowe’s. I bought the Christmas Porch Swag we used our first year here –
there, at Lowe’s; I used to like looking at all the Christmas stuff … and
walking around looking at the displays, and Bob would indulge me. Going back
there was emotional.
Lowes outdoor Christmas Display & Tree Lot with real Christmas Trees. 2019
I glanced at the in-store Christmas displays, but I couldn’t
bring myself to meander through them like I used to do with Bob – not ready for
that. Yet.
The lighted Front Porch Garland
Swag we bought at Lowes for our 1st Christmas here. November 25th, 2017. The last time Bob would help me put it up & take it down.
The overhead light we bought together, that replaced the outdated overhead light in in the Dining Room.
BEFORE picture of the dining area: we loved the easy flow of the open rooms. The carpet was removed & replace with dark wood flooring, and the overhead light was replaced. The kitchen was totally remodeled.
AFTER picture of dining area: hardwood flooring, acceptable overhead lighting, new window valances, and Bob set up the Amish crafted electric fireplace for me.
Very comfy-homey atmosphere. July 16th,
2017. MUCH BETTER
Remodeled Kitchen; new updated & brighter cupboards bought at Lowes, real stone flooring bought at Lowes, new, updated and matching appliances. October 5th, 2017.
Bob helped me pick this stone flooring – I like the
outdoors, and these stone tiles bring the outdoors indoors; it reminded me of
Bob’s logging days when he would take me to the landings with him on maintenance
days where he did mechanic work on the machinery and I explored the forest. And it matches beautifully with the hardwood flooring. September
22nd, 2017.
Kitchen valances bought at Lowes.
The spare bathroom light was awful; it was a Hollywood
Vanity light bar from the 1970’s. It had to go! We looked at lights at Lowes, and chose this one to replace
it; Bob installed this new bar light fixture, December 15th, 2017: it match the floor
lamp in the livingroom.
The matching floor lamp in the Livingroom … and the
new window valances we bought at Lowes. July 16th, 2017.
Going to Lowes will probably always be an emotional trip because it will always trip my memory bank.
I collected the mail when I got back home, and was
informed with the space rent notification that space rent will increase another
$25 dollars again this year. The delusional calimexarabia Park owners want
calimexarabia monetary expectations; which means a $300/year increase … for
nothing more than having our homes on lots here at Heron Pointe. It’s ludicrous.
The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love; He will rejoice over you with singing." (Zephaniah 3:17)
I don’t want to look back; not really. Those days this time last year, were not fun days – they were scary days filled with uncertainty … and always the shadow of the Grim Reaper stalking us.
It is a hard time to relive.
A sad time to remember.
And, yet – in those moments that my mind forces me to see; and my heart feels again the cracking that would eventually break it, I also see my husbands face through my tears. I loved that face.
I loved that man: I love that man, still; and I always will.
And every once in a while, the reel master of Memory Lane makes an unannounced visit to see what condition my condition is in.
This time last year – today, was filled with shaky promise. We knew that OHSU was Bob’s last chance for recovery; this was the “make it, or break it” place. OHSU is a learning medical facility:
OHSU Campus: sits on a high hilltop, and gives a very commanding view.
OHSU Campus is huge. It literally covers the entire hilltop.
OHSU Aerial Trams; seeing these things jet back and forth (either at the hospital, or simply driving through Portland over the years) always made me think of ‘The Jetson’s’ futuristic cartoon ;-)
OHSU ranks high in the list of “the best hospitals & the best physicians available in the USA” for their cutting-edge knowledge and procedures; the specialty of OHSU is their research and successes in dealing with and handling critical and fatal illness/diseases. The way the physicians, medical teams, and personal room staff worked together to tackle thorny issues with innovative ways was a blessing to us: they were confident & humble – they treated us like we mattered (at Peace Health, back home, we were treated by the ER doctors like we were nothing – one attending doctor even yelled at us); the physicians, though obviously more knowledgeable, listened to us: they included us in the process – and because we, and Bob’s wishes, were respected; we felt safe placing Bob’s life, and our future, in their capable hands.
We had arrived at OHSU the previous afternoon (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/some-semblance-of-holiday-cheer.html), and it had been a whirlwind ever since, with consulting physicians in and out of Bob’s room asking us questions, conferring with each other about options and, scheduling exams/tests … always exams and tests, no matter what hospital. I was glad Bob was there: for the first time since being thrust into that medical hell, we were beginning to feel hopeful – here, the physicians & surgeons are the best of the best in their fields of expertise: and the outlook they gave us this day, last year, was a very positive one. Peace Health, locally, was in over their heads from the get-go … and they admitted as much; they told us from day 1 that Bob needed to be at OHSU; but there was no bed available at OHSU, until November 24th.
This day, last year, the consensus among the members of Bob’s medical team assigned him, was that “with proper nutrition specific to Bob’s personal needs, and the removal of the gall bladder, he should be ‘back to his old self’ within a 6 mo/1 year span of time.” That optimistic & positive diagnosis was worth the trip. All we ever heard at our local hospital back home, was doom and gloom talk; which left us hanging by our fingernails and trying not to dwell on cremation destination. The attending medical team also agreed with us that while they can help with pain management, only Elohim can heal – medicines and surgeries cannot heal. We felt confident in their helpful support.
This time, last year, there would be 10 days left of Bob’s life.
Life, as we knew it was forever altered.
And, though I find myself today reliving memories I’d rather not, I do understand that this painful trip down Memory Lane is necessary to my full healing. I do cry when forced down this lane (I MISS him SO!), but I am no longer gasping for breath when my thoughts “go there”.
I am trying valiantly to honor my husband by rebuilding my life bit by bit on the foundation of love he gave me. We had a good life. We had a passionate life. We loved each other with a love that transcends the separating gap death placed between our parallel worlds (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/11/quantum-widowhood.html).
And I go about tending to daily business in my new life. I have, to the best of my ability, “pulled it together”: I have successfully dealt with/eliminated assholes in the business sector, as well as the familial sector of my new life: my bills are paid/up to date, and my personal life is in order. I can now drive myself further than 10 minutes into town to do quick grocery grabbing – I have, since May, actually driven on a few lengthy daytrip ventures: Bob & I were always day-tripping – I want to get back to that. I enjoy cooking again; I only cook for myself, but I engage in daylong cookathons; cooking meals that I break down and freeze. I have made friends; friends I made without Bob … solo friends, for my new solo life. And I have staked my ground where candy scott and ron cook are concerned: I put an effective halt to their bullying tactics and, thanks to the kid’s liberating antics towards me, I have decided to stand and fight for my right to live here at Heron Pointe in peace and safety – candy and ron killed my husband with the stressful fall-out of their paranoia and egomania ridiculousness … but they have a fight on their hands if they think for one minute I will go down without a fight. All that said, my new life may look solidly put together, but the reality of the situation is that widowhood leaves me feeling somewhat unsettled; and feeling hallow inside.
After 11 months/12 days/1 hour & 50 minutes, my new life does look newly restored and running smoothly: outwardly, things are pretty stable and solid – bills are paid on time, I bathe regularly & my hair is washed; and sometimes styled neatly, I move through my new life smiling, laughing, putting one foot in front of the other; to strangers watching me, I am a recreated vision of widowed success. I returned to life without traipsing down the proverbial alcohol or prescription drugs rabbit trails, I still have the house & car – albeit the kids & grandkids (their choices, not mine), I am socially active (platonic friends, no FWB) – reacquainted with old friends, made new friends, joined 2 Senior Centers; and I’ve ventured back into Bazaaring events. The condition of my conditional life looks pretty darn good – aside, from the physical death of my husband & the total loss of my entire family nucleus – my {‘life of luxury’ – yes, some have referred to my life as that} may even be enviable to some; but, things are not as they appear.
Aesthetically, I suppose my new and evolving life would look good to those watching it: those who don’t really know me. Those who know me, my intimate friends that have a front row seat in the theater of my unfolding new life, know that inside me – the part of me no one sees but Elohei and Bob ever sees, the landscape is bleak: it is a clean canvas, constantly under construction … and more often than not, erased and reworked. Only those who have come alongside me to walk with me – those who chose to remain in my life, understand there is more to the developing picture than what strangers see.
Where there used to be unbridled joy and happiness unlimited, there is now disquiet and emptiness. My eyes (Bob always loved looking into my eyes), are dull now since the light of them went out of my life last December as Bob’s spirit left this Earth: they shone with love for him. Only him – and he is now gone; they shine for no one anymore. There is an emptiness in my life that I don’t know how to fill: before Bob’s essence left me, I did not know a person could be swallowed alive by a sorrow that is born in the depths of the soul and bourne under a weight so heavy it literally drains you physically.
Of course, before Bob came into my life 45 years ago, I did not know about love either. I did not know that love could consume a person with a fever that could never be quenched – a passion so hot it could cause sparks to arc between 2 lovers when eyes meet across the room. Before Bob came into my life and livening it up with his love, I did not know that even death could not dull the fever. I did not know anything at all about love until Bob loved me.
Likewise, I did not know anything at all about death until I watched my husband losing his grip on life – until the spark of life went out of his beautiful eyes; and I saw the essence of him leave his earthen vessel with one expelling breath.
There is an emptiness inside me today that I don’t know how to fill.
That emptiness was once filled to overflowing with the presence of Bob. And Bob is no longer here. The echoing and aching emptiness is disquieting. Who knew that nothingness could be so loud and so painful.
My thoughts are still centered on him. My eyes still search for remnants of his existence. My nose misses the odor of him – his aftershave, his bath bar; his personal sweaty manly scent after a hard physical workout. My ears long to hear his voice. My body aches for his body – his touch, his embrace, his loving ministrations. Sometimes the intensity of missingness revives the rawness of widowhood emotions and threatens to consume me from the inside out, and I am less engaged in my own new life because of reliving those death watch days.
Thankfully, those gut-wrenching days are no longer following back-to-back in a daily slideshow. But I have noticed a pick up in the reviews since August 30th, and I’m thinking my mind’s eye will be held hostage by the reel master of Memory Lane Revisited until the turn of the 2020 New Year.
Last year, today, the Specter of death was in the shadows, and OHSU was holding out hope to us … this year, today, the reality of death is inescapable.
This time, last year, there would be 10 days left of Bob’s life.
I need the comfort of Yeshua now; through the first of the new year, more than ever before as against my will, the reel master in the recesses of my mind, keeps playing the agonizing slideshow of Memory Lane past.
It is part of the healing process. And I am only able to stand and watch it play out because of the mercies of Elohim, “Blessed be Elohim the Father of Adonai Yeshua Ha’Mashiach, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, Who comforts us in our tribulations, that we may be able to comfort those who are in trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by Elohim.” (2 Corinthians 1:3 & 4). It is a sad reality that in my new life I do have Comforters who understand what I am dealing with - it also a sad reality, that given my new life status; I too, am in a position to help others who are new to this unwanted walk of life.
I am comforted in my widowhood. And I am eternally thankful – without Elohim’s faithfulness and mercies, I would not be able to stand against the loss of Bob’s presence in my life. Elohim’s loving-kindness fuels me, and Bob’s everlasting love fires my jets.
I am blessed.
My Widowhood Wilderness Journey with Grief is not so rough-edged anymore. I’m still bewildered some days, with the reality of my solo lobo life … but I’m not lost in grief anymore. The tears still flow, but not so hot – and not so heavily anymore; my inconsolable weeping has become quieted sobs a bit more controlled. My shattered self is rebounding and I am building my new life on the foundation of my husband’s love for me: the love he gave to me instilled confidence in me, and whenever I start doubting myself and my abilities to move forward, I can still hear his voice telling me, “You can do this Honey – I have faith in you.” And that makes me smile, and march forward.
I march forward in the battle of my life, determined to gain ground, but still feeling blown about … without direction. I am searching for purpose now that all past purpose of my life has ended: Bob is no longer here, the kids have abandoned me and taken their children with them – life as I knew it has been forever altered. And progress with establishing a new life is moving slowly. I know that I will find stable footing again; eventually. I know that I have the fortitude and the “stuff” to make it through this tunnel of grief into a restive and restorative meadow of sunlight and flowers. Bob knew it too. He told me, “I have no doubt that you will do it, Honey; you may kick things around a bit, but you & I both know that when you make a decision, whatever you decide to do is as good as done.” I know I want to live life fully again, without tripping over Grief. I know I do not want to live with a hallow ache endlessly. And I know that living fully and reining in the hallow aching is up to me – my future is entirely in MY hands now: I don’t have to figure anyone else’s considerations into the equation – anyone who seriously mattered to me before December 14th, 2018, are all gone now.
Since becoming a solo lobo, I’ve reacquainted myself with my old badass self to get through the trying days when people were taking advantage of me and my situation. But I didn’t particularly like that old me in the old days … and I’d like to shake her again and move forward without her badassery. But for the time being, I know I still need her in some small part if I am to keep the victory ground I have so painstakingly held onto.
I am still nervous looking into the hazy unknown; I grew used to having Bob by my side, walking through the maze of life together. Facing that maze now, solo, is more than a little daunting. I know I successfully maneuvered my way through it before Bob, so it stands to reason that I should be able to walk it successfully now. But my brain misfires now … scouring its data bank for the missing presence of Bob; and my heart confirms the obvious: Bob is no longer here. My brain is misfiring. The data is incomplete – my whole being is thrown off balance; and the concluding networking consensus among all of my essence is: that I don’t know what to do with me, without him.
This time, last year, Bob was still here on Earth. With me. We were playing the cards we had with poker faces, hoping against fate that we would pull a Wild Card again and be given another winning hand in this game of chancy life.
We lost the hand, and were forced to fold our cards by December.
Since our lives went different ways, to continue on in parallel worlds, I have created new rituals and ordinary ways too, to soothe my wounded heart and regroup my shattered life. I want to recreate my life that satisfies me and honors my husband’s memory. And at the crux of that rebuilding process, is the niggling question of ‘what do I want to do with my life’.
I don’t have a clue.
ALL of my previous life was based upon building/living a life with Bob.
But Bob is not here now. And my life is at loose ends … running in every direction, trying to find balance in an unbalanced world. Despite the present unsettled chaos in my new life, I believe I WILL find balance again, and gain solid ground again.
Because at the heart of this new life of mine, the foundation is still the same. And it is a GOOD foundation. Our life was built on a 3-cord basis: Elohei & us – 1 & 2 = 3. Because of that foundation, so solid and so true, I know I have the capacity to achieve whatever I set out to do. The issue isn’t my ability … the issue is the trepidation of the unknown; my spirit is disquieted. I am not comfortable making a move without Bob's input; without being able to bounce ideas off him, I lack the motivation necessary to move forward successfully. I know I need to move on solo; I don’t want to move on solo. I know I am simply living safely – but it’s risky safety: I am hamstringing myself and it is crippling my healing process.
I know I NEED to stop fighting the inevitable. I need to make peace with the new life I don't want, if I am going to live any kind of contented life in the life I have been given.
And so, I remind myself today that 45 years ago Bob fell in love with a 17-year old girl he called his ‘Lady’. A girl that he said had more grit than the badass attitude she’d honed to perfection; he loved me because he said I was solid – ‘the real deal’; pure, genuine, strong, level-headed – a person of substance. Last November, my husband told me he had complete confidence in me that I could weather the storm and come through it as strong and solid as ever. More than anything, I want to be the woman my husband told me he had every confidence I am; and I want to be the woman Elohim knows me to be.
And I believe I WILL BE.
A spark of confidence is catching, and the lively flame of hope eternal is beginning its healing burn as I am forced to sit through the restorative private showing of my personalized Memory Lane slideshow that will catapult me through to the other side of the grief tunnel. That cathartic flame is spreading like wildfire through the ruin of my old life, purging it and making it fertile for new growth.
When the healing restoration is complete, there will be nothing hollow about me anymore.
This time, last year, was filled with so much emotion.
The local hospital here was bustling with
activity as Bob was prepared by his medical team for his journey across the
Columbia River to OHSU, in Oregon. Bob had refused the recommended blood
transfusions – and I stood by that decision: it was his decision to make,
and he was making decisions concerning himself, as long as he was able. I respected his wishes; and his assigned
medical team respected his wishes also, even when they strongly disagreed.
Around 11:26 AM, we got the word that Bob would
be ferried via ambulance to OHSU within the hour. We were both apprehensive –
there were no guarantees, and Bob was in a critically fragile condition. When
the ambulance crew showed up in Bob’s room, and started setting the gurney up,
and getting Bob ready to be transferred from the hospital bed to the ambulance
gurney, they asked Bob how he wanted them to precede: they had been apprised
that Bob had an active DNR Order in effect and they needed to be clear on how
he wished the trip to OHSU to go forward. They asked him if he suffered a heart
attack enroute, would he want CPR and other life-saving actions to go into
force … Bob said, “No.” I heard his decision, and supported it. It scared me,
but I wasn’t bound by fear – I knew Bob was bound for Heaven whenever that
would be; but I didn’t know if I would be meeting my husband or a notification
he had passed enroute, once I reached OHSU, myself: Bob’s son, Alex, would be
driving me to OHSU and spend a few minutes with his father before heading back
home to Salem, OR.; I can drive … but I thought it wiser if I didn’t, given
the emotional upheaval I was dealing with.
When we arrived at OHSU, Bob had made it safely,
and had been installed in his room there:
I was thankful I had not been greeted by
unwelcome news.
Before the night was out, Bob
was in an ICU ER downstairs with escalated heart palpitations; and out of sorts
temper-wise – Bob had not been
comfortable with change since he died the second time in 1981. He was in
another State; and though he was as familiar with Portland as he was with
Longview, he was in another hospital that he was not familiar with, in a
situation he could not control. He felt powerless. He was not a happy camper
and was snapping at everyone; including me.
I did what I thought best to
snap him to of his funk, and said, “Bob, if you do not want to be here, we can
go back home – right now. It is your choice. You do not have to be here if you don’t
want to be.” That calmed him down. He basically just needed to know that he was
still in control of his life and what happened with it.
For that afternoon,
this time last year, things were going
according to plan, despite the holiday pall that hung over our heads.
And this year, right now, I am taking
control of my life and what happens with it …
And I’m desperately trying to
revive some semblance of holiday cheer to buoy my sorrowing spirit – the first
Christmas tree of the season has made its appearance at the end of my street here …
I saw this lit
up tree walking through my livingroom ... so I put on my shoes and went outside
to see it up close and personal ;-)
I walked around the Park this evening; there aren’t
many homes lit up right now, but it was fun to spot the ones that were.
… and I will be putting my own
Christmas décor in place next week. I don’t feel comfortable around people yet
during this holiday season (it doesn't take much right now for me to dissolve into tears), but I DO LIKE Christmas décor all around me for my
birthday ;-)
After the 11 months I’ve had – actually, 11
months/10 days/16 hours & 40 minutes – I just really don’t have time for nonsense
and I’m not making room for anybody’s ridiculous bullshit in my life.
Earlier, a woman in one of the FB Widow Groups I had
joined, was complaining because there is a shortage of available men. She
posted, “How are we supposed to get married when the ratio of men to women is
so small?”
Well, I am not looking for a man to replace my
man, but I replied anyway (tongue-in-cheek), “And getting shorter since some
men no longer want to BE men.”A joke; rational people could understand
the joke – even if there is an ironic twist of factual truth in what I
posted tongue in cheek.
But … the dumbass moderator removed my reply and informed
me I could no longer post on group because of my {hate speech} reply.
Needless, to say, I UNsubbed from that {tolerant}
hateful group; I have no love for Word Police – last time I checked, this is
America, where freedoms exist: freedom of speech is one of those freedoms. But,
before I unsubbed, I let the moderator know I did not appreciate the hysterical
and uncalled for deletion of my reply, “I don’t see how anything I posted
can be considered ‘hate speech’; but I can see how removing what I posted can be
seen as a hateful action. No need to Unsub me … I am leaving your group and
blocking YOU. Karma – boom.”
Freefallin’.
Freedom.of.speech.
I didn’t say a.n.y.t.h.i.n.g.w.r.o.n.g.
While I was unsubbing, I just unsubbed ALL the
Widow groups I had joined; 99% of time I checked the Pages, or their members
blew up my newsfeed with their posts, I was shaking my head and wondering, “WTF?”
Most of the groups were full of younger widows anyway who were whining about
feeling gypped because they signed on to FB’s Dating and were upset because
they were pulling ‘deadbeat losers’ who just wanted a booty call and treat them
like ho’s. (((HELLO!))) – it’s an online dating site: WHO do they think they will meet?
America has become a country of bona fide dumb
asses.
I just really don’t have time for nonsense and I’m
not making room for anybody’s ridiculous bullshit in my life.
I have my own shit to work through … I don’t want
to wade through anyone else’s.
Bob’s body wasn’t cooperating with anything his medical
team was doing to try to rein things in; he couldn’t keep nourishment down –
even the liquified concoction they were feeding him through the feeding tube:
the feeding tube was removed. I cried; my husband was literally starving to death. Because his body was under such immense
stress, his heart was acting up, and giving everyone palpitations. The
situation was looking pretty dismal. Chaplains were visiting him almost daily …
and Bob always asked prayer for me too. He knew he was leaving me, and he
was concerned for me. He knew he was my whole life; Bob was all I had in
this world by way of family: there was no one else. Just him. I had loved him
since I was 10 years old.
And now, he was leaving me.
20 days …
That was all we would have together –
464 hours.
But we didn’t know that then.
This time last year, today, just like now … I couldn’t sleep. I lay in bed trying to sleep and
finally just gave up and called the Nurse’s Station in the ICU Ward and said, “Hi.
This is Valeria Hargand – my husband is Robert Hargand in room #401; how’s he
doing this morning?” I was told he’d been having “episodes with his heart”
since 1 AM. So, I said, “I’m really missing him – I know it’s too early for
visiting hours, but I was wondering if I could come see him anyway? Just for a
little bit?” The nurse said, “Sure.” I didn’t know that Bob was in critical crisis
mode and that being the case, wives are allowed 24 hour-round-the-clock access
and regular visitation hours are waived. I stayed all day with Bob, finally
leaving at 6 PM to come home and pack a duffel bag, planning to go back to the
hospital and stay in his room with him.
I remember pulling into the carport, and
immediately the cell phone started ringing. And Bob said, “you left too soon;
Dr. Chen just left – she said OHSU called and I have a room there Sunday. They’re
gonna put a stint in my pancreas.” The thing was that we’d been told this same
thing for months – and it was always pulled back. And, Bob wasn’t so
sure anymore that he wanted to go to OHSU. He was tired of struggling: he was
not a well man; seriously not well. And there wasn’t a single physician that
could tell us that the trip would actually be worth it – there was no guarantee
that anything would change. We didn’t know what – or even, how – to feel.
But everyone else wanted him to go: the doctors,
the kids, his mother and siblings. Bob wasn’t so sure anymore. And I would
honor Bob’s wishes. Bob was extremely fragile health-wise at that point.
And the financial worry was eating at him. We didn’t have the $$$$$$$. Bob only
had minimal insurance coverage through Social Security, we did have 100%
coverage through the Hospital Financial Aide – but would fall through the
cracks if the physicians and labs were not specifically Peace Health … which
most were not: the Peace Health physicians always contracted with outside
labs & follow-up doctors: always. And the State Medicaid vulture came
around trying to get Bob to sign coverage papers WHILE HE WAS MEDICATED. I put
a quick stop to that and forbade them to come to his room again unless I was
present – the papers they were trying to bullyhim into signing stated clearly that if he agreed to their coverage, and
he dies, the State can move in and grab everything we own to repay that “free”
Program Coverage. When I read that, I was seriously pissed. Bob told me to
close out his IRA Account and pay off the car & Visa … which I did.
During that horrible time of
suffering, anger, confusion, questions, frustration, loneliness, and
conflicting diagnosis’, people have said many things to us – meaning well – but
always ending up failing us.
Yeshua has never failed us; not once; though
it may seem that way to anyone who watched us go through that time, and
anyone listening to my human reactions (then
or now).
All we knew was that Yeshua is on call 24/7/365; and He never fails us. He
listens without comment. He comforts without unrelated comparison to his own
life struggles. When he says, ‘I am with you in this, you are not alone’, He
means it – He doesn’t just say that as a social courtesy: we can rest assured knowing
that we are His primary concern all day for as long as necessary – He IS
“there” whenever, wherever, for however long is necessary. We can cry out to
him in our darkest hour, and He is immediately at our side. And when we ask,
“What am I going to do now?” He calmly embraces us and whispers, “It’s okay. I
have it all under control. Just relax and let Me handle things. It’s good to
know that when I have reached the end of my rope and the knot I sit on is
slipping … HE never lets me fall because He never fails me. When my world tilts
and I do find myself in a whirling freefall, He is 'on the job' and always
sends my guardian angel to catch me before I hit the ground, then He whispers,
“It’s okay, Val. I have it all under control. Just relax and let Me handle
things. All you have to do is trust Me.”
And I do. I have ALWAYS trusted Yeshua with every nano second of my life, every
day. And Bob trusted Yeshua too. We – together – trusted Elohim’s Will
concering Bob’s life. And I trust Yeshua with my life now.
We hated that insidious illness that was holding
us hostage.
I remember this day, last year, which was
a Saturday. Bob had had a rough night and was pretty well medicated before I left
the hospital to come home, and start packing a week’s worth of clothing – jeans,
shirts, sweaters, underwear, socks; a novel (which never did get read);
juices; snacks (so I didn’t have to leave the room); the ipad (to
bring up comforting music videos to play for Bob); & our laptops (Bob
could use his sometimes & I used mine to keep everyone on our FB Page appraised
of Bob’s situation). And I remember our daughter called and asked how I was
doing, and I broke down. I didn’t know what I would do if Bob died – and there
was a very real possibility he could die enroute to OHSU. He could die at OHSU
before or during the surgical procedure. I was scared of how quickly things
were progressing and how quickly our life, as we knew it, was changing. Would
my husband ever be coming home again? HOW would he be coming home – as husband,
or as a corpse? I had to be realistic: there was a lot to think about.
I was freefalling.
20 days …
That was all we would have together –
464 hours.
But we didn’t know that then.
And I don’t want to be dealing with FB’s
ridiculous bullshit on the FB Widow Groups right now. I think I will avoid FB for
the next 20 days.
My heart still hurts.
I still miss my husband.
I am freefalling.
the next 20 days are going to be very difficult to get through - the 1-year-anniversary- flashback's are brutal.
I am barely getting any sleep; I am exhausted.
I can’t be dealing with hysterical word police drama
queens right now …
