Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Cobwebs

The cobwebs are thick in this space. So long since I've entered. 
More than two years of life and new responsibilities.
And death.

When I unintentionally abandoned this keeper of my words, I'd just begun a new job. Learning and trying not to stress over new things. Within the year I was fortunate to receive a promotion. More learning; and accepting I will always stress over new things. 

I kept the words in my head. After so long the voices got bored with the wait. They'd start a story, then forget to tell what came next. Not that I took the time to record all they said. Too many other things.

A year of continual car trouble. An air conditioner that stopped working.

Then a year ago my husband of thirty years was diagnosed with cancer. Bone cancer.

We went to all the appointments. Started all the new medications. Things seemed stable.

First part of this year,the furnace broke.

The roof needed replaced.

Those issues were attended to. The words were forgotten before I could write them.

Suddenly things were not so stable. The meds for the cancer not working. Switch to a new one.

The voices kept the stories to themselves.

We stumbled into summer. Saying to each other all the things that needed saying. That we wanted to make sure we said. Every day. Multiple times a day.

The past few months were exhausting for both of us. His pain increased almost daily. 
We cried together. We still found things to laugh about and clung to them. We said "I love you," every day. Multiple times a day.

Watching him in pain and unable to do anything to help was awful. I am eternally thankful to hospice care for the 24 hours nurses that final five days. The family and I would never have survived whole without them.

On August 7th, 2018, the battle ended. My husband passed peacefully at home with my daughter and I at his side.

There was sadness, and relief. The majority of grieving, we did together over the past year.

Now some time has passed. I hear the murmur in my head. 

I'll try now to find the time to listen and let the words return.








2 comments:

  1. I'm sure the words will return in no time. I feel your pain about losing someone to cancer, too. My big bro died this past January of it. Glad he's no longer dealing with it, but still sad he's no longer here.

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  2. Wow! These past few years have been challenging for you. I'm so sorry you lost your husband. Sure glad you're writing again. I look forward to reading more blog posts and seeing you around the interwebs! :)

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