There are 116 days until Thanksgiving.
There are 144 days until Christmas.
Ten Minutes to Midnite and Al had a Visitor
I am not writing this to put anyone in a sad mode nor for any other reason than I have been alone…
I am not writing this to put anyone in a sad mode nor for any other reason than I have been alone with Al since before supper last night and I am just beat. This is one of those posts that is for me to just get it out in the open instead of reliving it.
Last night wasn’t that bad. Things didn’t begin to get worse until 11:50pm. Yes, ten minutes before the new year kicked in. I was sort of listening to the New Year’s Eve program and Al was watching Dave Letterman.
All of a sudden Al calls me in his room in the loudest voice I have heard out of him in some time. I went in and he said, ” Look, we have a visitor.” I looked around but I didn’t see anyone.
He went on with, ” Right here, beside me. Look beside me.” I looked but didn’t see a thing. Although I will admit I caught my breath and the hairs on my arms stood straight up.
” Jesus is here.” I was speechless. Al went on to tell me that Jesus was sitting right beside him just watching him. Then suddenly Al began praying. I could make out some words he was saying but he was talking so soft that I struggled to hear.
I could hear him saying, ” Please take me home. Please take me home. I am sick. I want to go home”. This praying went on for about ten minutes. The clock was ticking down to midnight. I was holding Al’s hand while the people on the TV were laughing and having a good time. Then the numbers started. !0,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, Happy New Year.
Al quit breathing. My heart was racing. I looked all around the room but saw nor felt anything, but I knew without a doubt Al was seeing and having a conversation with God right there in front of me.
Finally he gasped and took a deep breath. Had he almost gone to heaven with Jesus? Had his heart decided to stop for a moment? I don’t know what happened but then it was over.
Al laid silent and I stood beside him stroking his hand. It seemed we were this way for sometime. He went to sleep and I went to bed going over in my mind what had just happened.
It felt weird. The world was moving into a new year and yet I remained glued to 2013. Time was speeding by me and yet standing still.
He was restless last night during the night. I was up with him several times. His hands and fingers are pretty swollen today. I don’t know if it is from his hands contracting or if it is his MSA or heart. The nurse will be here tomorrow and I shall be asking, although she will most likely notice it right away.
So here it is 2014. The hopes are brought into this new day. My hope is still that Al finds peace sooner than later.
Is it because it is the end of the year? Or is it because the hype of exciting and fun days of Christmas is gone? Or maybe it is because Al‘s illness just reminds me of an energised bunny; keeps going and going.
The facts are I am sick at looking at myself in the mirror. No real hairstyle anymore. No cute clips, no real make-up.
Same old clothes, same slippers, same old thoughts.
Now this sounds like a woman who has been in a pile of knee-deep crap for some time.
I think this woman needs a change of pace. But how can I do that? I need, I want, I yearn. I sound like a whiny toddler. I am restless I guess. For years, and months, weeks and days, life is going in one direction.
A direction that will bring nothing more than sadness, tears, and a void in my heart. I want to stop it. I want to flash back to earlier times. I want to pull my hair out.
No wait! I want to roll my hair up, put the make-up on. Squeeze my fat feet into those four-inch spikes. Put that mini over my plump thighs. Put on a push-up bra and pretend I have something to show.
How about some long glue-on french nails? Some plum lipstick and some gorgeous blush. Maybe I will even get in my trunk and pull out those fish net panty hose that were so popular back in my day. What do you think? Do you think I am ready for a change?
Who’s with me? Paris, Hawaii, The Bahamas? Oh wait, I don’t have any money.
This week, weave a story about yourself told through the lens of your past December 23rds.
Christmas as a kid was always the same. Wonderful, magical, excitement! Those were the days.
Christmas as a married adult meant working over-time, need of more money, lots of presents under the tree for our children. Giggles and screams of delight as wanted gifts were opened.
A divorce and remarriage on the rebound means sadness to me. A husband who made life hard to exist. Him hiding when people came to our house. Embarrassment, replaced delight of seeing people. Wanting to get the day over with. No money, very few gifts. It was always a sad time for me and an angry time as well. I saved my little bit of money I earned each week and finally was freed from this relationship.
The loss of parents that you love leaves the biggest gap in your heart. Christmas joy is ripped a way. Tears and sorrow replace all other feelings. Robotic movements kick in as you try so hard to carry on in a normal way that Christmas is supposed to be. Always glad when it is over, but sad when my kids leave to go back to their homes.
Christmas this year I dreaded with all that I have. Excitement over my kids being here. Sadness over wondering if Al would make it to the holiday. Thankful he was here, sad he slept through it. Not as many gifts but gifts that were wanted and enjoyed. Plenty of food and good conversation took the sting out of what was happening in my brother’s bedroom.
I am glad Christmas is over. My tree is down and the house looks more back to normal. Al is still here having bad days, and some better days mixed in. I treasured each moment with my entire family, knowing in my heart that there will never be a Christmas like this again.
Christmas will come once again. The 23rd will arrive without delay. People will come and some will never be seen again, but hopefully the future will open new doors. New memories and I will once again smile, remembering the pasts and looking forward to the future.
I was commenting on a dear friend’s post tonight and suddenly a few happy tears fell. Remembering Christmas‘s long ago when children squealed with delight. Hands clapping wildly and smiles from ear to ear.
We learned about baby Jesus in Sunday School but if I am honest, it was more exciting to wake up on Christmas morning. Mom and Dad were the best Mr. and Mrs. Santa Clause all around. We didn’t get hoards of gifts but what we got is exactly what we told Santa we wanted.
Each Christmas was like that until the year I got married. When Christmas morning came there was no one to celebrate it with first thing in the morning. Although I had my husband, it was different.
I still could not wait to go to Mom and Dad’s on Christmas Eve. Every year it remained the same at my parents. Christmas Eve was an unspoken saved time where we knew we were going there for dinner, treats, and gifts.
Spending the time with my entire family back in those days was a true joy. What a gift it would be today if I could have a peek and relive just one of those wonderful years. Both of my parents are deceased. My half-sister has pretty much disowned me. So it is definitely not the same now, but I do celebrate with my children and grandchildren.
New traditions to try out and add to many years to come. New memories are added but deep, deep within my heart is that little void and those silent tears for what once was.
My Dad had a little thing he would do for us three kids every year. He would wait until all the gifts were opened and then he would rise from his chair look at me and smile and slowly walk a way going to his bedroom.
When he returned he would have three brown paper lunch bag sacks. In each sack was a giant Hershey chocolate candy bar and a two liter bottle of coke. He would grin from ear to ear as he handed it to me.
My dad got a big kick out of Christmas. Of the entire year, this was the only time he truly enjoyed shopping. He didn’t care or he didn’t voice it what he got in return. I remember I used to buy him long john underwear a lot. Dad worked for the County Highway. He drove a truck and during the winter plowing, sometimes he would get stuck outside more than inside the truck.
But for me, I will be thinking this year about Christmas. It will only be Al and me sitting here, but my thoughts will be looking up to heaven and seeing Dad smiling down at me holding that brown paper lunch bag sack. He will be handing me my chocolate bar and coke. But this time I will not just say thank-you Daddy. I will jump up and wrap my arms around him so tight and squeeze him crying out how much I miss him and how much I still love him.
My Daddy, my hero of my world died six years ago Dec.1. I love you Daddy. I can’t wait to see you again. We will share that candy bar and that big coke. Hugs, your daughter, Terry.
This is my Daddy when I was caring for him while he was dying from Leukemia and Myaloma. I am the blonde next to him with my head tilted.