I remember he chose not to shower two days that last week. I remember meals were smaller and took longer. I remember he'd humor me and take a ride in the car, but the longest journey he could tolerate was 15 minutes out and 15 minutes back. He slept a lot, though I am happy to report he never fell asleep at the table, face on his plate. I remember his smile, always his smile. I remember he chose not to shave one day...very unusual for such a fastidious man. And I remember how very hard it was for him to get dressed.
Russ knew he was dying and wanted to die neat and trimmed; he asked me to take him for a haircut. By this time he had stopped riding his bike, but we would 'cruise' the neighborhood together, he in his electric chair and me walking along side.
What is the sadness part of my grief journey? What is my greatest disappointment in myself? I don't remember many of the details of our last days together; we were so focused on 'being', on one another and on peace. It is hugely blurred with the memory of having to call Hospice to say I thought he was gone and could they come quick. It is blurred by the TV-like image of them transporting him from the house on a gurney, covered with a blanket. The image is blazed on my mind, shutting out our extra special care and love his last week.
One year, two months later I find new beginnings take a very long time and this morning my memory of passing time bolted me into awareness. Since our very last "Good night lover", a nightly ritual, I have had to learn to live on my own. I have had to learn that I can walk out the door without my phone attached to my hip...literally. I have had to do the finances, make repair decisions, to hire help. I have had to acquaint myself with all the mechanics of the house. I have had to learn to feel comfortable making spur of the moment decisions with no planning, timing or regard for Russ' needs. I have had to learn how to facilitate a care gathering for wives whose husbands are declining, but to be a better listener than fixer (certainly not a strength). I have had to learn that everyone has a different approach to dealing with 'uncomfortable' and to respect their journey as well as respect my own. I have had to learn to do things with other people and allow myself to feel joy in connection. You might think that was easy and perhaps in the moment it is, but in reflection it is anything but. It was so hard after 10 years of constant care, worry and love that I had to make a widow's RULE for myself. I had to talk to a human EVERY day that had nothing to do with an appointment or an errand. Again, sounds easy, but I have to say it is far easier to stay home, intermittently cry or wail and ignore life without Russ by my side.
In my need to heed Russ' shared hope for me, here are a few connections from the last year:
What have I learned this past year and two months? My amazing life with Russ was just that...amazing. I wish everyone felt such connection, but I'm not sure they do. I need to carry that with me every day and know that Russ would want the photos above to be just what they depict... that I can laugh and enjoy the company of others. Though I write this with tears streaming down my face, I feel only gratitude that we shared so much of life together. He was the best teacher possible for love, companionship, honesty, vulnerability, peace and being content.
real
turning my tears to laughter and my panic to trust,
making my darkness part of my light,
and my wanderings part of my growth,
you loved me into real.