Be Good to Yourself

I've tried many times to post about my Mitt's passing and could not.  With a heavy heart, I am forcing myself to post this now.  My beloved went home to heaven on July 23, 2012 at 10:11 pm.  I am not ready to write down here what I experienced watching my beloved die, it is much too painful. I cried so many tears, they were like acid on my face; it felt as if every tear was burning the skin on my eyes and cheeks. I tried several times to force myself to stop crying. Now it's two weeks later and when I cry the tears still burn and in some odd way it's quite fitting to how I feel.

Saying goodbye to my Mitt was worse than I could've imagined and I had braced myself for my broken heart to shatter. I could've screamed a million screams and it would not have satisfied my need to express the intense feeling of the betrayal of life.

I could not have prepared myself to feel the overwhelming sense of my own death. How is it that I am still here and breathing when I feel as if my life has ended. How is it that when my world is quiet I feel such an overwhelming crushing weight on my chest but yet I go on. When I'm swimming in our pool, why do I see a shadow of myself floating at the bottom and feel as if I am dead yet I am not.

Mitt told me all he wanted was for me to be happy. Our daughter, Cassie's baby shower was scheduled for the first weekend after he died. He told me no matter what he wanted me to have the shower. I agreed not knowing at the time he would leave on a Monday and the shower would be my first Saturday without him. This was just classic Mitt; it was his way of telling me not to just go on with life but to enjoy it. The days since his death are a fog for me and I feel I'm still in this fog, this shock, this unending abyss of waiting for him to come home.

Maybe someday I will find a little comfort knowing he picked his date. He was born on August 23, his dad, Paul was born on March 23. He told me just weeks before his death he really liked the number 23, so the fact that he died on July 23 is his way of telling me...he chose this.

Just a few days ago I had a dream. Mitt was trying to blow up a balloon and couldn't. He stopped trying, looked at me and said "I can't do it, you'll have to have the party without me."

This is so unreal to me; when the phone rings I still think it's him, my heart jumps and in a few fleeting seconds I feel tremendous joy thinking it's him calling. When I am away from the house I think he'll be home when I return only to have to remind myself over and over...he'll never call me again...physically he'll never come home.

I know he didn't die without teaching us all to appreciate each other and love each other more. When we think we have nothing left to give each other, we should all remember to dig deep and give more love.

I wouldn't wish this pain on any living thing; but someday you may find yourself in this place of grief I'm in. Or maybe you'll be the one going home to heaven leaving your loved ones behind.

I know what Mitt would say to you, he said it to me many times; he would say..."don't wait, be good to yourself and live your best life."

Everything changes in a day

Yesterday was a turning point for Mitt... a turn for the worst which I could never have been prepared for. The morning started out great; he made it downstairs with the help of his cane and walker. I made his eggs; he gave them the thumbs up and said they were perfect.

He made it back upstairs slowly and we went through our morning ritual. He was using the restroom and I went in to help him up. When I pulled and he tried to stand he collapsed. He tried to crawl to the bed. He couldn't make it and I couldn't lift him. I called hospice and they sent over the non emergency fire department. Three firemen came in and two of them lifted him back into bed.

I was in tears and frustrated with myself for not keeping it together. Seeing him so helpless and not being able to help him frustrated and overwhelmed me and brought me to my knees.

Hospice sent a nurse over to evaluate Mitt after his fall.  He was having such difficulty swallowing they prescribed him the morphine patch along with the liquid morphine. All other pill form meds have been stopped.

Our three daughters came over, we had an ultrasound scheduled for Cassie in the afternoon. Mitt was asleep so we all managed to go. Our little grandson, LJ was camera shy but we got a few good ultrasound pictures to share with Papa Mitt.  After the ultrasound the girls had a few friends over to surprise me for my birthday. It was my 50th and the girls invited five of my friends and surprised me, they showered me with their love. I will forever be grateful. My head was still spinning from the morning. My heart was so filled with grief that I actually felt dizzy and I felt like I was in a fog while everyone was here.

When he finally woke up last night for some broth about 10 pm he told me he wanted to get up and walk. I had to remind him what happened and we both cried. Heavily medicated, tired, sick and in pain he still managed to joke with me and Lacey, look through all my birthday cards, gifts and pictures and admire little baby, LJ in the ultrasound photos.

The whole day was a blur about 2 am I realized there had been so much activity that I had not processed the anxiety of the morning.  I have to accept that Mitt is now what hospice refers to as bed bound.  He will no longer be able to walk around the house. 

They told me he had final gifts to give and they were right. His strength and courage shine and will forever be an example for us. His illness and what it has physically taken from him will forever make us more aware and grateful for the abilities we have in this life.

As I tried to sleep last night I remembered back to a Saturday in March; we still didn't have a diagnosis but we knew.  Mitt said he wanted to go to Walnut Creek for lunch.  He called it my "birthday lunch" and said he wouldn't be able to take me in July.  He took me to Tiffany's and asked me to pick out my favorite piece of jewelry, I picked a heart bracelet.  He wanted to personalize it for me.  The lady who was helping us kept trying to get us to go into a back room.  I was crying uncontrollably as she filled out the order form just watching her write the words..."Love You Forever Mitt" it felt like such a final goodbye.  I actually can't bring myself to wear this bracelet; I put it on and become so overwhelmed with emotion.  Someday I know I will be more at peace with this and I will cherish this gift for the rest of my life.

Though my fifty birthday wasn't what I thought it would be. I feel so very grateful that Mitt is still here with me. I feel blessed, loved and comforted by family and friends. Thank you all.

Downhill

I haven't been able to bring myself to post. There's no way for me to update this blog without totally breaking down.

Mitt is declining, he's lost more weight, he's very weak. He's been having trouble swallowing. He's in pain. Today his doctor increased his morphine to 100 mg every morning and night. He has a rash on his trunk and thighs, it's purple. His ankles and feet are badly swollen. His hands are extremely white. His body is failing, he can barely make it up the stairs and in and out of bed.

Please pray for his comfort and for my strength. I feel like I'm dying with him.

Thank you for your thoughts, prayers and love.

Mitten to Mitten

I met with Erin the hospice counselor for a couple of hours today. I'm trying to stay strong. The things that helped me before are no longer working. I'm not sleeping well, I am so exhausted, I'm very emotional and I dearly miss our old life. Mitt is sleeping a lot more with the increase in morphine.  Sometimes I find comfort in the memories of us in happier times.  Today I found this poem; I wrote it for him nine years ago on Valentine's Day.

"Mitten to Mitten"

This is the life we chose to share

 always trying to take great care

 of what became of you and me

 when we formed the ultimate "we".

We always thank our God above

 for sending the other for us to love

 and as our lives grow and change

 we realize we wouldn't rearrange.

Our life together would simply be

 the only way that we could see

 through the happy times and tears

 as we grow older from year to year.

 Tho' we cannot help but ponder

as we find we're growing fonder;

 how is it that we're still smitten

 with all our love, mitten to mitten?

From Your Wife with Love

Valentine's Day 2003

Relay for Life

This past Saturday was the Relay for Life in Vacaville. Our friend, Sandra aka Sparkle was the Team captain for a girls group she is the organizer of; SWAG (Sassy Women Always Game).

Sixteen ladies from the group joined Sparkle to form Team SWAG. Together they raised $7300.00! Sparkle herself walked 24 miles. She lost her sister in law to breast cancer. Our friend, Kristie walked 22 miles; she lost her dad to brain cancer when she was just 21 years old. The ladies put up with the dusty, cold conditions for a full 24 hours; they gave up time with their loved ones for a cause they believe in.

I am so proud of them and so very grateful for them and their sacrifice.

I had a very hard time going to the event. Talking with my sister, Carol helped and right after we chatted a card came from her in the mail and it also gave me strength. Mike was having a hard day, he was noticeably weaker. Going up the stairs is becoming harder for him. The steroids he is on are helping him to be able to eat more but he is not gaining weight or strength. Seeing him struggle is always difficult but Saturday it crushed me.

I forced myself to go to the Relay and I walked a few laps with my fellow Swaggies. It was very overwhelming; the "In Memory of" tributes were everywhere. I couldn't stop my tears or the thoughts that soon there would be one for my Mitt. Even typing it now...it is so very painful to admit; it makes me feel like I'm being crushed and I can't breathe.

I tried to post here on Saturday and on Sunday but I could not bring myself to post. Sometimes posting here feels therapeutic and sometimes it feels like I'm going to break. This blog can bring me comfort at times and at others it's a pressure and a reminder of our nightmare.

Mitt is getting weaker and I feel I am too. To say I feel lonely and alone is an understatement. Even surrounded by the love and support of friends and family, I dearly miss him...I miss us, I miss our lives, I miss our love, I miss it all...and he's still here! I know I am so blessed to still be able to hug and kiss and squeeze him. It hurts me so much now, I can't even imagine the pain of my life without him.

Time

Time is an odd thing...sometimes it seems to be on our side and sometimes it seems to be against us. These days, time puts me in an awkward place...I want more time with Mitt and he wants to go. He says his quality of life is so diminished he is ready.

What can I say to this...besides I understand? I do understand with my limited capacity of what he's going through. Although I am a witness to his suffering, I am not experiencing it as he is. I am with him at 4 am when he is awake and has the dry heaves. I am with him every step of the pain management; trying to keep track of and figure out which drugs work and which drugs make it worse. I have been with him every step of this disease which has devastated both of us. But this is his experience and I am just his willing caregiver and his unwilling witness.

I can't wish for more time when he wants so badly to be free of his pain. I try to align my thoughts with his. Sometimes I hear his prayers, they are for God to take him now. My heart breaks a little more each day as I try my best to not break down and scream at the world. Inside my screams are always the same... NO NO NO...does it change it? no, does it help me? not really, does it even matter? I don't know. If on some spiritual level this experience is meant or designed to break me, it has. Adding time to the pain and suffering changes it...it is more painful, more dreadful and more devastating because with time, it begins to feel endless.

I don't want this for my Mitt. I continue to pray for him not to suffer. His time...it's precious and it's limited. This is true for all of us though; none of us know when our time will be up. These thoughts are on my heart; what can I do with our limited time and how do I make sense of this senseless suffering?

Happy Papa's Day

Happy Father's Day to Papa Mitt, my Dad Vern, PJ in heaven and all the dads we know. On this day I'm very grateful for the sacrifices of our fathers and for all of the sacrifices Mitt made when he married us. He went from being a bachelor to an instant family. Now that the kids are grown and I've had the experience of a very peaceful home, I can appreciate more the extreme life change he went through.

Imagine an instant family and adding four young kids to your life. Not only did Mitt take us all on, he did so with a heart full of love. He was up for the challenge and shared his values and life experiences with all of us. He helped to make our kids who they are today and he made me a better parent and a better person along the way. Mitt has always amazed me with his integrity and his character. He is truly the best.

Happy Father's Day to my Mitt, my Papa, my friend. I love you.