Well, I did it. I got through the million questions. She asked, I cried and answered. So much brought back again. I listened to you, my friends. You cheered me on. You told me I could do it. Al even told me he would be here with me emotionally. I clung to those words as she asked things like, ” How did he die? Did he have MSA? How many years did you care for him? Why did you place him in a nursing home?” It went on and on.
Hospice promised they would stay in touch with me after Al’s funeral. The last time I saw or heard from them, was his funeral. I am so thankful that my daughter took me home with her and her family.
I am so thankful for my daughter-in-laws, Heather and Kristin for taking out of their family time and spending time with me. I am so thankful for Peggy and Sue, who have made me get out of this house.
Oh Lord, I am so thankful for all of my blogging friends, my Facebook friends. You don’t know how much I have counted on all of you. I thank Shona for picking me up off the floor emotionally and telling me I can do this.
When I am here in the house alone my heart spills out on to the floors. When the silence comes at night and the lights go out, the sense of Al not being here is extreme.
With all of your help I am able to get through each day. I am having more minutes that are calm, which must mean I am slowly healing.
Please, if you have a family member or friend, or someone you think about and tell yourself you need to give them a call, don’t hesitate. You never know when you may not have that chance.
For me, I knew Al wasn’t going to be here forever. I got that chance to say everything to him I ever wanted to. We were able to do so many things together when the illness was in its lighter stages.
So many of us don’t get these warnings. Instead we get a phone call in the middle of the night. Or we hear about it elsewhere. Take a moment my friends, and thank God and your lucky stars that you have people in your life. I know I do it each and every day.