Sometimes the way my life replays in my mind seems like a movie I’ve watched. You know, the kind where you’re watching from the outside not having lived it yourself. Except this one I have. I remember my first time watching a movie at the cinemas on my own. The kids were at their Nanas place for the weekend and all of a sudden, I had time. I really wanted to watch a movie, and I forgot what it felt like to be in a cinema. So, I put my big girl pants on and booked the last movie of the night hoping no one would see me. I drove to our local cinema and the car park was so full I turned around and went to another one lol. I arrived at the next and then froze and couldn’t get out of the car. I started crying all of sudden sad, that I’m doing these things alone but at the same time knowing I need to because heck I still want to watch movies. What I realized after, was that it wasn’t about the movie itself it was getting to a place where I had to be strong enough to keep doing things without having James here. Even if it meant having a break down before doing it. The feeling of doing things alone now never gets old. It’s like walking around every day with half of your heart missing. You never get use to it. With every milestone and daily activity that he would usually be present for, there’s an anticipation of griefy feelings that come with it.
Over time I’ve learned that this is all a part of the healing process.
Some days I have flashbacks that I believe I wasn’t consciously aware of. I may have overlooked them from the weight of what I was experiencing in my reality. Even on this day.
I will always remember this day. A Sunday. 10 days after his 33rd birthday. James had been in hospital all week and last night we both decided that I would go home to sleep with our babies and pack my things so that I could spend the evening with him again later on this day.
As a mother and a wife this was the part I had struggled with. To be present for my young children who were at the time 11 months and 2 years old but also be there for my husband and stand as his advocate at all, if not most of his appointments. I had worked in the health sector for many years and so I knew how to navigate this part for him. If your husband was anything like mine, he wouldn’t necessarily ask all the questions when it came to his appointments. I mean he’d ask questions just not the right ones. That’s when the wifey comes in handy, isn’t that right guys lol. And all the ladies say Amen.
I would constantly feel defeated because at the same time my heart was with my children. I couldn’t help but feel guilty. It wasn’t just being separated some days; it was having to make decisions like stop breastfeeding earlier than I wanted because I couldn’t take my newborn son to all of our appointments.
I clearly remember walking into Chemotherapy with my newborn in the pram and being stopped at the entrance because children were not allowed. I knew this, however it never crossed my mind. Up until this point I had been taking my son to all of our appointments and I never once stopped to think about the risks of having him at chemo. I felt so silly, knowing this having worked in a hospital. I told James I would wait in the car and sat there crying the whole time because I felt guilty not being able to be with him and torn, I had to be with my son. My sister and brother in-law came straight away to take our son for a couple hours so I could be with James. I still remember the guilt. Some things just had to give to relieve some of the pressure. Sometimes I felt like I was being pulled in different directions.
The 12th of November was also my parents 40th Wedding Anniversary. My family had decided to keep it low key because of everything that was going on with James. He was deteriorating and we all knew. So, we decided to have a family breakfast at my older sister’s place and then make our way to the hospital together.
This morning, I had woken up to floods of messages from extended family requesting to visit James and this didn’t stop throughout the day. I had woken up from the most broken sleep. My son had been unsettled all night. At the time I just thought it was because their routine had been so out of order since being in hospital but now reflecting back it felt as if my son knew today was the day.
It wasn’t a good night for James, he hardly slept because of the constant discomfort and difficulties breathing. His breathing had deteriorated significantly during his stay. Each day he was more reliant on the oxygen machine and each day they continued tests that wouldn’t tell us much. Before this admission we were told he had 3-4 months of life left. Despite this we remained hopeful. I was fasting and praying just expecting God for healing. I was thinking he’s going to come back from this and when he does my gosh what a testimony he’s going to tell!
Each day I would watch him fade, eating and moving less. But for some reason I felt different today. My life was always such a rush but at the same time I had this wave of peace over me on this day, surely it was God.
When I arrived at the hospital as soon as I walked in the room and locked eyes with him, it was as if he felt a sense of relief. He was extremely exhausted at this stage. Despite this, we had many intimate moments throughout the day.
At one stage When there was no one in the room but the two of us he held me close apologising, crying… “I’m sorry babe, I’m ready to go.” We both cried, hugged and cried some more. My response never changed when it came to holding space for him. I reassured him that when he was ready, he could go. I told him we had lived a full and beautiful life, nothing was wasted. Our marriage, our love, our children, his journey to finding salvation in his relationship with God. It all made sense. I thanked him for it all. While saying this to him, it was as if my heart was slowly breaking. All I was thinking was God, how am I going to do this without him? This is not the life I imagined. If you saw him that day, he was ready and so at peace.
For some reason he was confident I would be ok, he would tell me over and over “you will be ok, we have the best support system with our family and friends…Just make sure the next guy isn’t as good looking as me” lol Typical James always making a joke out of sad moments. Obviously, I wasn’t the worry for him, but his kids…Boy his kids. Leaving them broke his heart. His dream come true, his legacy. It always pained him speaking about not physically being here for them.
How I wished this wasn’t my life right now. Who knew loving someone so much could hurt. This hurts.
The day was completely jam packed with visitors back to back. Despite his exhaustion he agreed to see every single person. With everyone that walked through his room he acknowledged and thanked. That was just who he was, always making time for everyone, even on his last day. Even if this meant having a conversation with everyone with his eyes closed.
When there was a short window with no visitors, we decided it would be a good time to do his cares. When this time came around every day I would assist him and let him do what he could, but today he was completely dependent. I remember so distinctly having extreme back pain that was driving me up the wall this day. I have no doubt it was from maneuvering this huge island guy on my own, not for the weak that’s for sure. But I would do it again any day.
This time there were more breaks in between to catch his breath. For everything he couldn’t do, I did. Every time I would do his cares; I gave him a pep talk at the beginning and encouraged him to do what he could as we continued. In these moments it felt as though God was revealing to me the true depths of love. This was it, right here. It wasn’t in the victories it was in these low moments where all you had left was to carry each other. Literally.
It was the most frail I had ever seen him, physically weak yet his spirit still full of life. My heart was aching, remembering the days I gave birth to our children, and he was the one caring for me when I was frail. When I couldn’t shower or lift my legs to change it was him doing it. Now it was my turn. It was the most beautiful heartbreaking experience that I will hold onto forever. We would often crack jokes in between to switch the intensity of the moment. We knew his time was coming, I’d whisper you’re fine babe I’ll wash you any day haha. TMI? ok. It was a full circle moment.
How could my heart be breaking but simultaneously feel like everything we had ever done together had led us to this moment in time. But at the same time how dare this guy pursue me all these years, then up and leave…Rude.
Lol there goes the dark humour again… The things you do for love.
As the hours passed, so did the visitors. It was a long day; I hadn’t left his side since arriving. I also hadn’t eaten a thing neither do I remember even feeling hungry. Finally, we thought we had caught a break from the visitors, so I decided maybe I’d finish my cold cup of coffee and have a sandwich outside in the family room. I had kissed him and asked if there was anything he needed me to do before walking out to which he responded no, he was fine.
I hadn’t been gone for 5 minutes and all I heard was the emergency bell go off, followed by screaming down the hall. I stepped out of the family room and saw a redlight flashing directly above his room. I sprinted to the room and found him in a seizure. My immediate response was to talk to him just like I do whilst doing his cares. Come on babe, you’re ok come back, listen to me, I got you, I repeated over and over again. He came out of the seizure and stared me right in the eyes asking me what had happened. I told him you had a seizure; he was gasping for air even with his oxygen mask. In about 10 seconds he went into another seizure and again I spoke to him in his ear… come on babe, listen to me, you got this, come back, come back to me… I don’t remember crying, I remember my knees buckling like I was about to collapse, like my heart dropped down into my core. I see a nurse guiding me to sit on a chair, but I don’t feel anything. I can sense my body shaking, I see faces but I barely remember much from this point on.
He was gone.
29 & Widowed 