Started writing at dawn…
The weather.com is saying it is 4 degrees F… my yard
thermometer says it’s 10 degrees F… the eastern glow is climbing up the
horizon…the sun has not yet crested the ridge to the southeast. The moon is
still up shining in her glory. I stepped
outside with the dogs … appreciated the beauty of the dawn … and gave thanks
for the day. A moment’s peace.
Then it hit me… like a pro MMA fighter’s roundhouse kick to
the diaphragm. Sadness… missing his physical presence. When David was up we would greet the mornings
together… just step outside and look across the distance … the ranches, farms,
rolling hills, ridges… and appreciate the beauty… enjoying the moment together
standing on our little spot in the world.
My heart of hearts and very soul … screaming why…. Well
there are all the physical reasons for his body to fail… and you know I’ve
picked each and every one of them apart like a hoard of south Americian army
ants… devouring each and every bit of information… looking around for any
morsel that may have been missed. Conclusion: body ravaged by diabetes
complicated by the very drugs that were supposed to be helping him. There had
been a very negative reaction to statin/cholesterol drugs resulting in massive
muscle breakdown. Blood pressure drugs
that actually drove his blood sugars up. Aaarrrgggghhh…. It took me way too
long to catch either one of these issues because I foolishly relied on the
doctors rather than researching everything they prescribed to him initially. I
feel like I failed him in that regard. I still have mountains of reading and
research piled up to get through… I used to get really frustrated with him as I
was wading through yet another study… or book… or webpage researching reading
other people’s studies and opinions… head swimming as I was cramming yet more
vocabulary and information into it’s database… and David was sitting in the
living room with his feet up watching some military or gun show or John Wayne or Clint Eastwood … anything…
I’d go into the living room and pounce on him… get up and
move… or will you read some of this… he’d look at me and say “I love you… will
you go get me another cup of coffee” If
I’d handed him a book or article… he would look to see if it was gun related
and if not… pile it on the side table… unread.
Then he’d say sit and watch with me… part of the time I did… now I am thankful that I did stop and watch
with him…
We had completely changed the way we were eating… over the
years I’d changed our food consumption to predominately healthy real foods
across the boards. We had finally gotten him away from the drugs that were
doing damage to his body… and his sugars were stabilizing … his blood pressure
was as good or a bit better than when he was on the blood pressure drugs that
were driving his sugars up. The pain in
his hip and knee was receding… the swelling in his face and hands lessening.
His color was improving… much better than what he has in the pictures. His body
was actually getting healthier. He was starting to have that old spring in his
step… with enough energy to call his brother in law on his birthday and
visiting on the phone with his son… planning to garden next spring and have one
of his grandsons come to visit for a while.
He was happy and he was feeling better… we had a Christmas
tree for the first time in 9 years. He
loved to just sit and look at it… watching the kittens in their kitty condo
playing next to it. He watched them by
the hour… Curley, Larry, and Mo. David named them. We watched train tour dvds…
I’d bought them for him for Christmas… but as usual had given them to him as
soon as they came in the mail….so we watched them early. When I bought him a
gift… Christmas, Birthday, Anniversary… I was never any good at keeping it back
and not telling him what it was. I
always just gave it to him. It was such
a pleasure to watch him dig into it… his eyes all sparkling with joy. Didn’t matter what it was… he would love it…
because it was a gift… because he had been thought of.
He was my rock… my joy… my torment… my best friend… my soul
mate… my husband… he still is. The body he resided in expired. No more
needles… no more drugs… no more physical pain. He made his choices in this life and he lived and
died by them. I know he was not planning
to leave when he did. But that is something
that is not in his nor my control. I
tried to revive that body and to pull him back into it… it was a go no go
situation… just as if a switch had flipped and that body was shut down. Like you’d unzip a pair of insulated
coveralls step out of them and drop them on the floor. Their form is still there, they are still
warm inside, but they are empty… crumpled in a pile on the floor.
Grief/bereavement counselors were here yesterday. A husband
and wife team. It was a good thing.
Yesterday was the first day I have not had massive panic
attacks.
I actually took a bath...and am venturing out to a church
service. They invited me yesterday... I am choosing to take a step out the
door.
The fire in the wood stove is banked... I've had a cup of
coffee. I am dressed... in bibs of course as that is what fits me ... this
morning has been the full gamut of giving thanks for the day... an active
choice... crying because often we would greet the day or night together...
missing my husband ... knowing that he is ok...
I wonder … what glories he is able to see now…
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