Blogs are tricky business. Some may say I'm a bit of a narcissist for recounting my life, others say I'm a know it all for expounding on my views. I see myself as a story teller, someone who has gone out of her comfort zone and has started to tell her story. My story you see is complicated, not the norm but truly mine. My story is only starting to be told, these 8 years have been a learning experience. I have been thinking over this last year, more than one women in the same situation as me, would identify with it. So I will be recounting my story more and more as these next twelve months unfold, stay tuned
Over this last year, I've met some wonderful souls. The dear soul I'd like to discuss for this blog is my new friend Janet Tarantino. Janet is a writer, a prophet of sorts and one who has documented her three near death experiences in her book, "Dying To See." I met Janet in Sedona and we spoke at length about life and the mystery of death. I happened to mention the story of my husband's passing and Janet asked if I would be willing to write it as she wants to include it in her next book. I agreed and asked if I could bring the story to my blog first. So without further adieu, the "story" for the world to read here first:
I woke up with a start, not sure why at the time, I do
now. The dogs were peacefully sleeping
next to me, both snoring their peaceful snores that showed comfort and complete
trust. The air had a heavy feeling,
one of almost suffocation or looking back, the heaviness of death. Once I realized where I was, I was on the
couch in the family room, the sensation of finality hit me hard. But let us digress back to the beginning;
before I recount the end.
February 20, 2013 John and I got the blow of a lifetime, he
was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He
had not felt well for a while, I thought he was on a diet as he had lost so
much weight. But no, God had other ideas
for him, for us. Pancreatic cancer is a
death sentence, I knew it at the time the words came out of the ER doctor’s
mouth. I am not sure John did however,
but we found out fast. He had been sent
to the ER by our family practitioner as she thought he might have
pancreatitis. Sadly, it was worse than
what we thought, the news I only ever want to hear once in a lifetime.
That evening we sat in the family room and just looked at
each other, not sure what to say or if there was anything to say, frankly. Those words, “you have a tumor growing on
your pancreas and it’s cancer” were so hard to understand then and now as I
write these words. Why did this happen
to my nice husband? Why did this happen
to our 17-year-old daughter, who adored the father who adored her back? Why did this happen to our family unit that
had begun to grow stronger over that last year or two? Why? I
still ask that question but now that I understand the Universe better, the
question seems to have been answered on so many levels.
But let me continue as the story has several twists and
turns. John began chemotherapy in early
March. By the end of March, he had lost
his hair, much of his strength and new pants were needed as he had lost so much
weight. He was sick from the chemo, and
I believe now scared as I genuinely believe in his heart, he knew he would not
make it. So, in his own way, he made out
his bucket list, first being he needed to live long enough to see our daughter
graduate from high school. That he did
and sat proudly on the sidelines, beaming with pride as she accepted her
diploma.
His next bucket list item was to make it to July 4. The chemo was beginning to wear him down and
his strength was faltering. But made it
he did, lit firecrackers for the kids in our church parking lot and enjoyed
every minute of that last 4th of July party. He ate next to nothing, but his spirit was
strong that night. He checked off bucket
list item #2.
Meanwhile, the looming consequences of cancer overtook
him. He never really was too interested
in attending church with us but now that he knew he had a death sentence, he
began to seek higher guidance. He joined
a men’s Bible study and accepted the Lord.
I will always believe the peace he found in Jesus, got him over the
threshold and gave him the strength to continue.
The third item on his bucket list was to visit his Texas
family one last time. We flew to Texas
after Labor Day and spent several days visiting his remaining aunt and uncle
and visited his cousins. We toured a
couple college campuses our daughter was interested in and flew to Orlando and
spent a couple of days there at Disneyworld and Universal. He also flew in a fighter plane from WWII and
checked that item off his list as well. The
trip wore him out sadly and when we arrived home, he was simply down for the
count for several days. Chemo resumed
but hope was fading, and he was wasting away from the poisons being pumped in
his system. His faith however grew strong,
but he knew his time was limited.
We celebrated his 61st birthday with a huge party of family and dear friends but the end was looming. Thanksgiving came upon us late that year and his strength was gone. We had stopped chemo and hospice had come in to help. Thanksgiving night he fell, our neighbor came and got him back in bed. The end was looming, and we all knew it was just a matter of days.
Saturday morning, November 30, he asked for morphine. I gave it to him, he just looked at me and
said thank you. Later that day, he began
to stare intently at the corner of the family room from his hospital bed. He kept motioning to me to look at the corner
as he was reaching. I saw nothing but he
saw something. All day he kept reaching up
while watching that corner. When I laid
down on the couch next to him that final night, he was till reaching and
looking up at that corner and talking to something. I found him after 1:00 am Sunday morning
December 1, 2013. He was still looking up with his arms outstretched, he had
gone home to the place of peace and love.
As I look back now, I know there were beings of light and
love up in that corner beckoning him home.
I know in my heart this for a fact.
I also know for certain he had died only a few minutes before I woke up.
When I went upstairs to wake up our
daughter, she was already awake and had that same feeling I had when I opened
my eyes. John woke us both up when his
spirit left, to tell us goodbye.
The Universe has its plans for all of us; those we never
really know. A few months after he died,
I was out in my garden one afternoon with the dogs. It was warm, the sun was shining and when I
looked around, I saw him standing there by his barbeque, watching me, watching
us. He had a look of peace on his face,
a smile and then I knew, he was leaving us for good. I have not seen him again as he has moved on
to the next dimension. Those last hours
of his life, however, have stayed with me and will continue to do so forever.
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." Psalm 23:4
