Chapter 9 -- The end.

After this, the girl went to live with the new family on the other side
of town. I kept in touch enough that she doesn't forget me but not so
much that I interfere with her learning to live with and love her new
family.

In the first few months after her death her parents go about cleaning out
her things. I end up with quite a few things of hers. The most touching
thing is the Beanie Baby wedding bears. Groom and Bride. She had bought
it shortly before my birthday and had meant to give it to me. Instead I
got it after she passed. Her final gift to me telling me that were it not
for this situation we would certainly have been married.

This is where I end up in an almost unique situation. Many men are
widowers with children. Many men have fiances or girlfriends that have
passed. Very few have almost-children who they've practically been
fathers to only to lose their mothers and have the children go elsewhere.
Even fewer of them end up staying in those childrens lives as an
almost-father.

Where does this leave me now? Well, I got on with my life. As hard as it
was to do. I'm of course still a regular in her daughters life.

But her daughter is where this story really ends, or doesn't actually end
yet. She has her life ahead of her. At the writing of this, she's wrapping
up her first year in high school, with honor roll. As a freshman she was
playing varsity sports. Due to the incredible generousity of her mommy's
coworkers, she's got her college tuition paid for. Her mommy prepared her
very well for life and I'm so incredibly proud of her.

Chapter 8

I went home that night. My sleep that night wasn't very restful, what
little of it there was. The next morning I pretty much just stumbled back
over there. A hospice chaplain was there. She left by 9:30.

Half an hour later it was time for another morphine suppository. She
didn't make it through this one. By the time we finished she had stopped
breathing. The hospice nurse was on her way so we waited. This is when my
sister called to get the news that I'm sure she didn't want to hear. Ten
minutes later the nurse showed up and called in the death.

From here things went fairly quickly. As I had no job, I got to watch her
daughter for a couple days while the memorial service and funeral
arrangements were made. By the end of that the couple that she had
arranged to take the girl had prepared their house.

In that time we tried to keep the girls life as normal as possible. I
took her to her softball game. There is where I realized exactly how
well she had been prepared. She told one of the girls "My mom just died".
The other 9 year old looked at her as if she didn't fully understand and
asked "Shouldn't you be sad?". There was no answer. At the time I
thought it was her being in shock. It took quite a while before I
realized that she had really just been so well prepared for this that she
did understand exactly what was happening.

The next day came the memorial service and funeral. I sat in the church
during the service mostly ignoring the priest that barely new her. I was
steeped in my own thoughts about her and our life together and what could
have been.

Sometime during the service I looked further down the pew. There I saw
the couple that was to be the little girls new family. They were holding
hands.

Now it hits me.

The hand I should be holding to comfort me is in THAT coffin.

Continue reading in Chapter 9

Complaining about loss?

One sunday morning, several weeks ago I woke up with the TV still on whatever channel I had fallen asleep to. Some TV preacher was on. He was apparently giving a sermon about being blessed and not complaining about small losses. He was telling a story about a man that was in his office complaining. It went something like this,
"...so I told the man, "lets make a list of all the things you have to complain about. I'm sorry about the loss of your wife and I'm sorry you got fired..."
At this point I actually laughed. He went on to talk about the mans house burning down. I found it so funny that he was giving a sermon about not complaining about things and then used the example that yeilded 2 of 3 losses for me. What would he have told me? "Well, at least you've got your health." I'm thinking that wouldn't have cheered me up way too much.

It's incredibly tough explaining my situation to people because most people really can't understand. I'm very lucky that I got the support I needed when I needed it. My parents, both having grown up during particularly bad times, were no strangers to loss. If it weren't for their financial support I'm sure I would have lost my house. That would have been truly devastating. This is in addition to the obvious emotional support.

Chapter 7

Only a few weeks later, I lost my job. A good job. A very good job.
Naturally I was bothered, but it was just a job. I could get another. No
big deal.

Four days later, another saturday, was my brother's birthday. I hadn't
told anyone I was jobless yet, no reason to spoil the party. We were
going to go out and enjoy ourselves. Though I'm not even a major sports
fan, we went to a ball Off to a ball game and I'm not even a major sports
fan. Various other venues for celebrating, carousing and chatting
followed. We ended up for dinner at an Irish pub for dinner. I received
a call from her, but let it go to voice mail as I was out with family and
friends and having a good time. The evening and entertainment continued.
I enjoyed myself.

The next morning I listened to the voice mail.

"Hi, I'm not feeling so well. Give me a call".

I called her back. Her mother answered.

"She's in a coma now," she said. She sounded in shock.

I was absolutely stunned. I got in my car and drove over to their place,
about 5 minutes away. I really was barely conscious of what I was doing.
I pretty much drove on autopilot.

Her mom opened the door. The look on her face must have been a mirror
image of my own, and she realized it too. With barely a "hello" I was
let in.

She was hooked up to an oxygen machine in a hospital bed in her parents
living room. I had occasionally watched her sleep. I had seen her lying
in her hospital bed for days on end. This was not like either one. She
lay on the bed barely moving, barely breathing, barely alive. I sat by
the bed and held her hand. Still almost nothing was said.

After a few moments her mother looked at her father and said, "Come,
maybe he wants to be alone with her." They walked out without saying
anything else.

I sat by her side. I couldn't say much. I had screwed up. I hadn't picked
up her call. I didn't call back as soon as I could. Now I couldn't ever
talk to her again and I knew it. How could I ever make up for this? I
could tell her I loved her. I did, but I don't actually believe she heard
it. Many people who have loved ones in comas will say they know they're
being heard. I'm sure now that they're right, I felt the same certainity
that she couldn't hear.

That day I also knew something else. I knew that I could pull the plug at
the end of a life. I saw her lying there on the hospital bed in her
parents living room. I saw the pain her body was in, despite the copious
amount of morphine suppositories she was on. I saw the struggled, almost
impossible breathing. I saw her face. I knew she wasn't going to live
long. This wasn't my choice though.

I helped her parents take care of her all day. We sat at her bedside. We
talked, I honestly can't remember what about. They talked with her
daughter, who was off having fun at an amusment park. She didn't want to
come home. I know the girl had been very very well prepped for this
eventuality. She knew she had no reason to come home.

Continue reading in Chapter 8.

The visit. . .

I did something for the first time today. I visited Her grave. It's 5 years this year and I hadn't been there yet. I wasn't ready. Really, I still wasn't but I ended up there anyway. I was out doing something else, but took a wrong turn and ended up driving past the cemetary. I kind of decided to head in. Now, I didn't actually know where she was buried. I spent about 45 minutes looking for her grave marker. I really wasn't in a hurry to find it and in fact was trying to delay it as long as possible. I found it after a while. I almost wish that I hadn't. I couldn't handle staying there too long. I'll be going back some time eventually. Maybe I'll be able to handle it.

Chapter 6

My 30th birthday fell on a saturday. While this happens to about 1/7th of
the population, it's a divine sign for a big party. I had one. Roughly 12
hours of cook out and partying at my new house. Only about a week later
she went back into the hospital. Her cancer had been back for a while. The
doctors had offered her a few expirimental chemo options, but she didn't
qualify. This hospital stay was the setting for many difficult days and
conversations. There were discussions about her lack of options, plans for
her daughter, doubts about her life and choices. Her now obviously
imminent death was rarely discussed directly.

I didn't apologize for the things I did wrong.

She was released from the hospital and sent home into hospice care. But,
because she believed we had broken up, she didn't contact me about any of
this.

Continue reading in Chapter 7