It seems as though we are all always thinking.....not in a steady stream but all over the place...patches here and there...no conclusions, no solutions, only worry, fear and the unknown.
Sleep for me is very difficult. I just know there will be lots of time for sleep later. I feel, now, like every moment is precious. I sleep enough. Don't worry, I am remembering that I have to remain strong and well for Richard, our children, our families and friends. But I'm constantly thinking about the next thing, the list of to-dos, the memories that I am learning to hold dear. It's all O.K....necessary parts of this journey maybe....or possibly a distraction.
Tonight all the kids are gone, Richard is asleep and I find myself feeling empty and somewhat numb. But then I will remember...and my breath stops....allowing a wrenching pain to bubble up and cover me entirely. I am surprised there are tears left. I will often find myself just sitting beside him, quietly on his bed....tears flowing quietly down a now familiar path....watching him sleep.
I have allowed myself some moments (about all I can handle) to try and imagine what it will be like to live in this house without Richard. I am so afraid.... He is so much a part of our home. All his treasures surround me. His smell is in our closet. His shaver, with little pieces of his hair in it, is lying on our bathroom counter. His favorite soap is on his side of our shower. I know these things will be comforting to me...but also I think it will all make me sad, painfully sad.
Richard is slipping away more every day. I tried to talk to him about the beautiful things he has given me and of how thankful I am. He has believed in me, my strength and goodness. He has given me the confidence to love myself. What a beautiful gift. I talked....trying desperately to get him to understand. I also assured him that when he was gone I would continue to believe in my best self. I promised that I would continue my own spiritual study. I told him I would find a way to not always feel afraid. I have a need to share my walk of abundant appreciation and thankfulness. I can't risk him forgetting for a moment what he means to me.
As he grows weaker, there is a need for me to grow stronger. I am doing it....finding it almost easy and comforting. He is dependent on us now for almost everything. We are all stepping up and learning to work together intuitively....all for Richard, our hero. There is a rhythm here now.....a focus. I believe our movements are the same ones that have been taken by our ancestors for generations before us. Somehow, even though so much is frightening, it all seems familiar. I have experienced a "knowing".....and so have the others that are doing this with me.
I can feel you all thinking about us. I know there are prayers being said, candles being lit, loving thoughts surrounding us. I am so thankful for all of our family and friends. This is a huge group effort. Believe me your thoughts, remembrances, prayers are an integral part of this journey. I know that Richard feels all of you. I know it is part of his acceptance and peace. Thank you.
Blessings,
Sherri
Friday, January 30, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Reality
That isn's a very creative title...but it is the best I could come up with. I believe that all of us have entered a type of "time warp".... We often look at one another and say, "I can't believe that we are doing this." "I can't believe that we are talking about this." But slowly I believe that it is sinking in. It is horribly sad...yet I continue to feel as though it is such a gift to be caring for this wonderful man....the horror of it all can be diminwshed.
Richard grows weaker daily. He sleeps a great deal, now has a catheter and has had episodes of breathing problems. His voice is very quiet...a whisper and sometimes it is difficult to understand him. However, there are such beautifully tender moments...Dana and I giving him a bed bath, Jason stroking his cheek, him thanking me and telling me that he loves me and seeing flashes of his beautiful smile.
Dana and Emily are very close....I often see them holding one another, stroking each other's back, bowing their heads together....comforting one another as only brothers and sisters can do. It warms my heart greatly. Sometimes they include me in that tenderness....but I have learned to reach out and tell them what I need and they are always willing to give it to me. They are beautiful children....they are Richard's children.
My son is coming tomorrow....and I know for me that will be a comfort. I can feel his sadness over the phone lines and his worry about me, Richard and his step-brother and sister. I will welcome him here with open arms. I can't wait to have him hold me. He is a man now and he is a great hugger. I am thankful he is coming even if it is just for a few days.
My friends...we are moving through this holy time. We are very busy....hospice has supporter us beautifully and we move forward with caring for Richard under their compassionate guidance. While they keep us busy....I know their intentions are right and in the end the preparations will make things much easier.
I wish that everyone could be here and just observe the miracle of this experience. I believe it is golden. I feel honored to be part of it.
My love to evereyone. I wish this were longer.....but I am needed.
Love Sherri
Richard grows weaker daily. He sleeps a great deal, now has a catheter and has had episodes of breathing problems. His voice is very quiet...a whisper and sometimes it is difficult to understand him. However, there are such beautifully tender moments...Dana and I giving him a bed bath, Jason stroking his cheek, him thanking me and telling me that he loves me and seeing flashes of his beautiful smile.
Dana and Emily are very close....I often see them holding one another, stroking each other's back, bowing their heads together....comforting one another as only brothers and sisters can do. It warms my heart greatly. Sometimes they include me in that tenderness....but I have learned to reach out and tell them what I need and they are always willing to give it to me. They are beautiful children....they are Richard's children.
My son is coming tomorrow....and I know for me that will be a comfort. I can feel his sadness over the phone lines and his worry about me, Richard and his step-brother and sister. I will welcome him here with open arms. I can't wait to have him hold me. He is a man now and he is a great hugger. I am thankful he is coming even if it is just for a few days.
My friends...we are moving through this holy time. We are very busy....hospice has supporter us beautifully and we move forward with caring for Richard under their compassionate guidance. While they keep us busy....I know their intentions are right and in the end the preparations will make things much easier.
I wish that everyone could be here and just observe the miracle of this experience. I believe it is golden. I feel honored to be part of it.
My love to evereyone. I wish this were longer.....but I am needed.
Love Sherri
Saturday, January 24, 2009
To all who have loved Richard
I am very tired but I feel like I need to take a few minutes to let you all know what is going on. This will be short.....I'm weary and know that my sleep is crucial to face this next phase of our journey.
Richard had an MRI yesterday. The doctor (our angel....Dr. Gittle Goodman-Wilson) came to our home and shared the news with Richard and his children, Dana and Emily, and I. The cancer has aggressively spread throughout Richard's brain and no further treatment can be done. I didn't need an MRI to tell me this; however Richard wanted to go through with the test and so did his children. I am surprised that even though I felt like I knew what was happening....hearing it and seeing the report took away all of the denial that was still part of my deepest wishes that Richard would live with me forever. The news was devastating. Last night was very intense....but today, even though bleary eyed, we are all facing the challenge of meeting Richard's wishes in the best way that we can.
Hospice had been called in last week. We had to stop it....so that insurance would pay for the MRI....but the minute the results came in, we re-signed and hospice has started again. Family has gathered....lots of comings and goings....but I'm trying to stay centered and focused, knowing clearly what my job is at this point. My main focus is on providing Richard with as much comfort and love as I can as he faces this last stage of this journey that we have been on.
Richard has carefully taught us all how to proceed through this phase. We are all moving within his constant message of love and compassion and everything else has fallen away. We are all tireless in our mission. I believe that this is Richard's last lesson on this earthly plane....how to receive care from others instead of always being the caregiver. As expected, he is facing this challenge with grace and courage.
He has prepared me well and I know my role as his partner and wife. His children are totally amazing.....as is all our family and friends. Whenever we feel lost we look at him and the way becomes obvious. He is surrounded by glowing candles, pictures, amazing smells and tender hands. I believe we are all holding him up....standing beside him as he prepares to leave this earthly place. He is at total peace....he is calm, tranquil and shining with the assurance of a man who has lived within the pure light and understanding of how this Universe works. It is awesome to watch.
Yes, I am frightened...sometimes breathless about how fast it is all moving. But I know that we will all be O.K.. We will be sad, lost at times, totally forlorn....but yet strong in the knowledge that Richard feels so sure that he has reached a state of completion with this life and is ready to move on.
Please keep us in your prayers. The work we are doing now is true soul work. We all hear the true essence of a higher power directing our every move. We are thankful for all of you. You are giving us strength to find meaning in this most difficult time.
Love each other....that is exactly what Richard would want.
My love,
Sherri
Richard had an MRI yesterday. The doctor (our angel....Dr. Gittle Goodman-Wilson) came to our home and shared the news with Richard and his children, Dana and Emily, and I. The cancer has aggressively spread throughout Richard's brain and no further treatment can be done. I didn't need an MRI to tell me this; however Richard wanted to go through with the test and so did his children. I am surprised that even though I felt like I knew what was happening....hearing it and seeing the report took away all of the denial that was still part of my deepest wishes that Richard would live with me forever. The news was devastating. Last night was very intense....but today, even though bleary eyed, we are all facing the challenge of meeting Richard's wishes in the best way that we can.
Hospice had been called in last week. We had to stop it....so that insurance would pay for the MRI....but the minute the results came in, we re-signed and hospice has started again. Family has gathered....lots of comings and goings....but I'm trying to stay centered and focused, knowing clearly what my job is at this point. My main focus is on providing Richard with as much comfort and love as I can as he faces this last stage of this journey that we have been on.
Richard has carefully taught us all how to proceed through this phase. We are all moving within his constant message of love and compassion and everything else has fallen away. We are all tireless in our mission. I believe that this is Richard's last lesson on this earthly plane....how to receive care from others instead of always being the caregiver. As expected, he is facing this challenge with grace and courage.
He has prepared me well and I know my role as his partner and wife. His children are totally amazing.....as is all our family and friends. Whenever we feel lost we look at him and the way becomes obvious. He is surrounded by glowing candles, pictures, amazing smells and tender hands. I believe we are all holding him up....standing beside him as he prepares to leave this earthly place. He is at total peace....he is calm, tranquil and shining with the assurance of a man who has lived within the pure light and understanding of how this Universe works. It is awesome to watch.
Yes, I am frightened...sometimes breathless about how fast it is all moving. But I know that we will all be O.K.. We will be sad, lost at times, totally forlorn....but yet strong in the knowledge that Richard feels so sure that he has reached a state of completion with this life and is ready to move on.
Please keep us in your prayers. The work we are doing now is true soul work. We all hear the true essence of a higher power directing our every move. We are thankful for all of you. You are giving us strength to find meaning in this most difficult time.
Love each other....that is exactly what Richard would want.
My love,
Sherri
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Checking In
Hello my dear friends and family,
This past week and a half has been a total blur. Dana and I have decided that we have entered a "time warp".....a little microcosm of the real world. We have no sense of what day it is, what time it is or even of what normal is like anymore. But we are all moving forward in learning to care for a man who is at this stage of the brain cancer journey. I am so proud of Dana and Emily. They are amazing as they care for their Father. It is so touching to watch them interact with him.
Richard's decline over the past ten days has been absolutely stunning. I see him changing daily and feel him slipping away from me as time goes on. He is in bed most of the day. Now he can only transfer or walk with alot of assistance and even, at times, needs help changing position in bed. He is more confused and forgetful. Fortunately the cancer has prevented Richard from really understanding what is happening to him or to even be aware of the changes in his ability to do his daily living skills. I am so thankful for that.
Because of this....Richard is still talking about getting an MRI and possibly continuing chemotherapy. As he talks about the possibility of continuing treatment I believe our children are also needing to see and hear what is happening, medically, in their Father's brain. So I had pushed for an MRI. I've had to fight with the insurance company to get this to happen but we finally got it through and we're having the MRI tomorrow morning at 11:30. Our angel doctor will come to our home and tell us all the results and we will all make plans for what should happen next.
After being with Rick, pretty much non-stop for the last few days, I don't need a test to tell me that there have been huge changes. All of this tells me that something is drastically happening to my husband's beautiful brain. The pit in my stomach, the ache in my heart, the tears I have shed, the faces of our children.....all tell me that Richard is approaching a place of late stage cancer. I pray constantly that I am wrong and that this is just a little set back; however I must be realistic in order to truly be there for Richard and our family and friends.
We all are having the most difficult and important conversations of our lives right now. I have had to be brutally honest with Richard and with our children in regards to what I am seeing and what I believe is happening. I've had to stop and hold their hands and just be quiet; there's really nothing I can say to make this better. I know we all feel helpless.
The most important thing I want everyone to know is that Richard is experiencing minimal pain at this point. What he is feeling is either a headache (scary) or body aches from being in bed. He says that he is peaceful and assures us that he is not afraid. He is being a courageous man...even through this difficult time.
Caring for him is such a sweet honor. Each of us have our own strengths....but it all is so touching and loving. I love helping him, bathing him, feeding him, toileting him, etc. I know that this is a time where Richard is learning one of his most important lessons....how to be cared for instead of always being the one to take care of others. I thank him daily for letting us do this for him....
Betsy let me borrow the cutest little "day bed" that during the day we use as a couch, cuddle place and at night Jazzy and I sleep there. As I lay there I listen to the rhythm of Richard's breath and I watch him as he sleeps peacefully. The hospital bed has an air cover over it and when Richard moves the cover squeaks.....it always wakes me and I look over and see if he needs something or if he is just moving. There will be no more attempts at getting up by himself. I was always so fearful of the time when I would have to stop sleeping with him....but I am loving our little room and I am sosososo glad that he is more comfortable.
He continues to be precious. My love for him has grown even deeper....I like to think that it is growing deeper into my heart so that I will feel it there forever. He is my biggest blessing in so many ways.
The out pouring of help, prayers and love is immense. Thank you to all of you who have dropped off food. We are ALL enjoying it and it is so wonderful that none of us are having to cook. Thank you to the angel(s) who send periodic Trader Joe's gift cards. I'm not sure who you are but we are putting them to good use. Thank you to all the family who are supporting all of us daily. Thank you to all who are continuing to surround Richard and our family in light and who are praying for us. I feel your prayers and thoughts. That is often what is keeping us moving through this part of the journey with strength and compassion.
Love to you all!
Sherri
This past week and a half has been a total blur. Dana and I have decided that we have entered a "time warp".....a little microcosm of the real world. We have no sense of what day it is, what time it is or even of what normal is like anymore. But we are all moving forward in learning to care for a man who is at this stage of the brain cancer journey. I am so proud of Dana and Emily. They are amazing as they care for their Father. It is so touching to watch them interact with him.
Richard's decline over the past ten days has been absolutely stunning. I see him changing daily and feel him slipping away from me as time goes on. He is in bed most of the day. Now he can only transfer or walk with alot of assistance and even, at times, needs help changing position in bed. He is more confused and forgetful. Fortunately the cancer has prevented Richard from really understanding what is happening to him or to even be aware of the changes in his ability to do his daily living skills. I am so thankful for that.
Because of this....Richard is still talking about getting an MRI and possibly continuing chemotherapy. As he talks about the possibility of continuing treatment I believe our children are also needing to see and hear what is happening, medically, in their Father's brain. So I had pushed for an MRI. I've had to fight with the insurance company to get this to happen but we finally got it through and we're having the MRI tomorrow morning at 11:30. Our angel doctor will come to our home and tell us all the results and we will all make plans for what should happen next.
After being with Rick, pretty much non-stop for the last few days, I don't need a test to tell me that there have been huge changes. All of this tells me that something is drastically happening to my husband's beautiful brain. The pit in my stomach, the ache in my heart, the tears I have shed, the faces of our children.....all tell me that Richard is approaching a place of late stage cancer. I pray constantly that I am wrong and that this is just a little set back; however I must be realistic in order to truly be there for Richard and our family and friends.
We all are having the most difficult and important conversations of our lives right now. I have had to be brutally honest with Richard and with our children in regards to what I am seeing and what I believe is happening. I've had to stop and hold their hands and just be quiet; there's really nothing I can say to make this better. I know we all feel helpless.
The most important thing I want everyone to know is that Richard is experiencing minimal pain at this point. What he is feeling is either a headache (scary) or body aches from being in bed. He says that he is peaceful and assures us that he is not afraid. He is being a courageous man...even through this difficult time.
Caring for him is such a sweet honor. Each of us have our own strengths....but it all is so touching and loving. I love helping him, bathing him, feeding him, toileting him, etc. I know that this is a time where Richard is learning one of his most important lessons....how to be cared for instead of always being the one to take care of others. I thank him daily for letting us do this for him....
Betsy let me borrow the cutest little "day bed" that during the day we use as a couch, cuddle place and at night Jazzy and I sleep there. As I lay there I listen to the rhythm of Richard's breath and I watch him as he sleeps peacefully. The hospital bed has an air cover over it and when Richard moves the cover squeaks.....it always wakes me and I look over and see if he needs something or if he is just moving. There will be no more attempts at getting up by himself. I was always so fearful of the time when I would have to stop sleeping with him....but I am loving our little room and I am sosososo glad that he is more comfortable.
He continues to be precious. My love for him has grown even deeper....I like to think that it is growing deeper into my heart so that I will feel it there forever. He is my biggest blessing in so many ways.
The out pouring of help, prayers and love is immense. Thank you to all of you who have dropped off food. We are ALL enjoying it and it is so wonderful that none of us are having to cook. Thank you to the angel(s) who send periodic Trader Joe's gift cards. I'm not sure who you are but we are putting them to good use. Thank you to all the family who are supporting all of us daily. Thank you to all who are continuing to surround Richard and our family in light and who are praying for us. I feel your prayers and thoughts. That is often what is keeping us moving through this part of the journey with strength and compassion.
Love to you all!
Sherri
Thursday, January 15, 2009
A changing Journey
My special friends,
Our journey has changed dramatically since I last wrote. I am heartbroken to report that Richard has declined tremendously. These past few days have been a blur. They have also been very painful for us all. But we are supporting one another. I believe things are progressing as best as they can at this point of our experience with brain cancer. I am sad and frightened for us all. But with Richard as our teacher and model I have faith that we will make it through this horribly difficult time with strength and courage.
In the wee hours of Monday morning, my once robust husband, took his first fall getting out of bed to use the restroom. Up until that time he was moving with stability (although his gait had changed to a shuffle) and requiring no help to do anything. Sunday morning he had gone out to breakfast with my Mom and all of our children. He walked into and out of the restaurant without assistance. We all were amazed as he ate six pancakes scrambled eggs and hash browns (no, his appetite has not changed!)!!!! The previous evening he had gotten himself ready for bed and climbed in as if it was another day.
Needless to say, this fall took he and I by total surprise. As I have written before, there were significant changes in gate and speech…also sleeping more…..and lots of cognitive decline…but something changed in those early hours that seemed to make everything drastically different.
We had to get up early on Monday morning because it was a chemo day and we have to drive an hour to get to the cancer center. My friend, Sheryl, was arriving at nine. When the alarm went off Richard stayed in bed which is very unusual. Up until that morning he had always gotten up to made the coffee while I fed our dogs…but that morning he didn’t move and I did the morning “get up routine” on my own. When I went back into the room he said that he was going to need help getting up but that then he thought he could take care of the showering himself. In getting him out of bed…his legs buckled and he fell again. He needed lots of assistance getting to a standing position. My arthritis has left my arms, neck and back so weak….but somehow the strength came and I was able to get him standing and with a considerable amount of help he got into the shower. After I got him dressed he wanted to lay back down in bed as I showered and got dressed.
When Sheryl arrived to drive us to Everett she helped me pack up our bags and I took care of the dogs. It took both her and I to get Richard out to the car, using his walker (Thank God I had gotten one as requested by the doctor during the week before). After a Starbucks stop we were on the road. Richard ate the breakfast I had packed and half of a scone and then he immediately feel sound asleep on our way to Everett. It was a difficult drive….knowing in my gut that everything had changed. I texted my sister-in-law angel, Pam, and she met us in the garage with a wheelchair. We unloaded Richard and got him upstairs to his appointment.
They put us in a private room, drew blood and then they wheeled him over for his appointment to see the doctor. Dr. Congdon met us with a very sad look on his face. After talking for a while, answering questions etc., the doctor told us that he feared that a small part of this sudden leg weakness may be due to the steroid increase, but that decreasing the steroids would put Rick at a higher risk for seizure. We decided to lower the dose to see if that had any significant change. He then told us that his biggest fear was that these symptoms were related to a sudden surge of tumor growth and once again he explained his on-going worry about continuing a round of chemo when he felt we were seeing tumor progression. Richard asked how we could tell if these symptoms were due to tumor growth and the doctor explained that we would need a new MRI. Rick stated that he wanted to continue with this chemo treatment. So we decided to proceed and then scheduled an MRI for the following week with a plan to go down to Everett on his next scheduled chemo day (Monday, January 26th) to hear the results of the
MRI.
After his treatment Pam and her husband, Scott, drove us back to Bellingham. When we arrived home, we put Rick to bed, Pam started dinner and Scott and I went to a medical supply store to pick up a wheelchair, a urinal and a shower seat that the doctor had ordered. It was obvious that I couldn’t take care of Richard by myself and so Dana (his son) came home from Seattle and has been by Richard’s and my side ever since. Our daughter and her boyfriend have also been here when she wasn’t working. They also have been an immense help.
During that night Richard fell again, even with using the walker and with me holding him up. His gate suddenly changed. He and the walker went flying in different directions and Rick landed on his face, hitting his left eye on our scale. I screamed for Dana and he came running, Richard is now sporting a frightening black eye.
The next morning I called our local doctor (Dr. Gittle Goodman-Wilson) and brought her up to date with what was happening. I told her my “take” on our meeting with our oncologist and Richard’s desire to continue chemo. but that I suspected that we were looking at tumor progression. That day she contacted the oncologist, called me back and we made an appointment to see her on the following day. The sweet woman called me again that evening, asking me about how things were going and offered to come to our house to check Richard out…but I felt like we could wait until the following day to see her.
That same day I also called Richard’s old place of employment (a wonderful care facility where Rick was a nurse and then the medical record’s director) and asked for some help. When I explained our situation the angel I spoke to (one of Rick’s dearest friends) said not to worry she would get on this and see us after work. That afternoon three angels arrived, one with a variety of medical supplies that filled our dining room table, one with a huge box of food and a physical therapist with more equipment. She taught Dana and I how to do safe bed adjustments and transfers. She asked Richard’s permission to bring in a commode to make toileting easier and he agreed (She later dropped one off), and made some adjustments to our current set up so that caring for Richard would be easier. It was an amazing hour and after they all left the three of us cried with appreciation and total love for these women and all the people at Mt. Baker. They totally embraced us and helped us all immensely.
Since we arrived home from Everett I have watched my husband weaken and change minute by minute. When we tried to get him up for the doctor's appointment it became obvious that he was way too weak to go and I called the doctor’s office and told them. Gittle called me back and said she would come to our home that evening. Pam came up so that she could be part of that appointment.
Richard fell again when I went to let the dogs in. I had left him on the commode and he fell trying to empty his own commode pan. He did get to the toilet (a total miracle) but then fell into our closet. When I found him his was laying flat on his back in our walk-in closet holding the pan proudly in the air. When I saw him I burst out laughing, went and got Dana and after the three of us got over our hysterics, we got Rick up, scolded him and put him back in bed. He spent the entire day sleeping in bed and begged us not to make him get up. It was so painful to watch.
When the doctor came she examined Rick and then sat on the bed with all of us and talked to Rick about our options. In the end Richard agreed to bringing hospice in so that they could help us. It was a heart breaking conversation but we all agreed that we needed help. I was already experiencing significant arthritis pain. Even with our strong 26 year old son helping me, lifting a two hundred pound man has been really hard.
I am so sad…heartbroken. I am watching my husband change right before my eyes. I know that tomorrow a hospital bed will arrive. Last night was so painful because I sensed that it may be my last night of sleeping with my husband and our comfy big bed. He was so restless and uncomfortable throughout the night that now, I can’t wait until we get the hospital bed. It will be so much easier to help him get comfortable and to move him safely.
My grief is immense for all of us. Watching our children (my son will join us soon) and both of our families as they slowly accept where we are headed has been excruciating. Feeling Richard’s deterioration has been awful.
I also know that this is a blessed, holy time for Richard, myself and our families and friends….and want to honor it with as much grace as possible. We have all become witnesses to a holy transition and we are assisting Richard by caring for him, loving him and just being with him. I know he is constantly surrounded by angels....actually I feel them all around us. If you listen real carefully you can hear their soft voices, their melodies, their on-going rituals as they help Richard face this part of the journey.
Our journey has changed dramatically since I last wrote. I am heartbroken to report that Richard has declined tremendously. These past few days have been a blur. They have also been very painful for us all. But we are supporting one another. I believe things are progressing as best as they can at this point of our experience with brain cancer. I am sad and frightened for us all. But with Richard as our teacher and model I have faith that we will make it through this horribly difficult time with strength and courage.
In the wee hours of Monday morning, my once robust husband, took his first fall getting out of bed to use the restroom. Up until that time he was moving with stability (although his gait had changed to a shuffle) and requiring no help to do anything. Sunday morning he had gone out to breakfast with my Mom and all of our children. He walked into and out of the restaurant without assistance. We all were amazed as he ate six pancakes scrambled eggs and hash browns (no, his appetite has not changed!)!!!! The previous evening he had gotten himself ready for bed and climbed in as if it was another day.
Needless to say, this fall took he and I by total surprise. As I have written before, there were significant changes in gate and speech…also sleeping more…..and lots of cognitive decline…but something changed in those early hours that seemed to make everything drastically different.
We had to get up early on Monday morning because it was a chemo day and we have to drive an hour to get to the cancer center. My friend, Sheryl, was arriving at nine. When the alarm went off Richard stayed in bed which is very unusual. Up until that morning he had always gotten up to made the coffee while I fed our dogs…but that morning he didn’t move and I did the morning “get up routine” on my own. When I went back into the room he said that he was going to need help getting up but that then he thought he could take care of the showering himself. In getting him out of bed…his legs buckled and he fell again. He needed lots of assistance getting to a standing position. My arthritis has left my arms, neck and back so weak….but somehow the strength came and I was able to get him standing and with a considerable amount of help he got into the shower. After I got him dressed he wanted to lay back down in bed as I showered and got dressed.
When Sheryl arrived to drive us to Everett she helped me pack up our bags and I took care of the dogs. It took both her and I to get Richard out to the car, using his walker (Thank God I had gotten one as requested by the doctor during the week before). After a Starbucks stop we were on the road. Richard ate the breakfast I had packed and half of a scone and then he immediately feel sound asleep on our way to Everett. It was a difficult drive….knowing in my gut that everything had changed. I texted my sister-in-law angel, Pam, and she met us in the garage with a wheelchair. We unloaded Richard and got him upstairs to his appointment.
They put us in a private room, drew blood and then they wheeled him over for his appointment to see the doctor. Dr. Congdon met us with a very sad look on his face. After talking for a while, answering questions etc., the doctor told us that he feared that a small part of this sudden leg weakness may be due to the steroid increase, but that decreasing the steroids would put Rick at a higher risk for seizure. We decided to lower the dose to see if that had any significant change. He then told us that his biggest fear was that these symptoms were related to a sudden surge of tumor growth and once again he explained his on-going worry about continuing a round of chemo when he felt we were seeing tumor progression. Richard asked how we could tell if these symptoms were due to tumor growth and the doctor explained that we would need a new MRI. Rick stated that he wanted to continue with this chemo treatment. So we decided to proceed and then scheduled an MRI for the following week with a plan to go down to Everett on his next scheduled chemo day (Monday, January 26th) to hear the results of the
MRI.
After his treatment Pam and her husband, Scott, drove us back to Bellingham. When we arrived home, we put Rick to bed, Pam started dinner and Scott and I went to a medical supply store to pick up a wheelchair, a urinal and a shower seat that the doctor had ordered. It was obvious that I couldn’t take care of Richard by myself and so Dana (his son) came home from Seattle and has been by Richard’s and my side ever since. Our daughter and her boyfriend have also been here when she wasn’t working. They also have been an immense help.
During that night Richard fell again, even with using the walker and with me holding him up. His gate suddenly changed. He and the walker went flying in different directions and Rick landed on his face, hitting his left eye on our scale. I screamed for Dana and he came running, Richard is now sporting a frightening black eye.
The next morning I called our local doctor (Dr. Gittle Goodman-Wilson) and brought her up to date with what was happening. I told her my “take” on our meeting with our oncologist and Richard’s desire to continue chemo. but that I suspected that we were looking at tumor progression. That day she contacted the oncologist, called me back and we made an appointment to see her on the following day. The sweet woman called me again that evening, asking me about how things were going and offered to come to our house to check Richard out…but I felt like we could wait until the following day to see her.
That same day I also called Richard’s old place of employment (a wonderful care facility where Rick was a nurse and then the medical record’s director) and asked for some help. When I explained our situation the angel I spoke to (one of Rick’s dearest friends) said not to worry she would get on this and see us after work. That afternoon three angels arrived, one with a variety of medical supplies that filled our dining room table, one with a huge box of food and a physical therapist with more equipment. She taught Dana and I how to do safe bed adjustments and transfers. She asked Richard’s permission to bring in a commode to make toileting easier and he agreed (She later dropped one off), and made some adjustments to our current set up so that caring for Richard would be easier. It was an amazing hour and after they all left the three of us cried with appreciation and total love for these women and all the people at Mt. Baker. They totally embraced us and helped us all immensely.
Since we arrived home from Everett I have watched my husband weaken and change minute by minute. When we tried to get him up for the doctor's appointment it became obvious that he was way too weak to go and I called the doctor’s office and told them. Gittle called me back and said she would come to our home that evening. Pam came up so that she could be part of that appointment.
Richard fell again when I went to let the dogs in. I had left him on the commode and he fell trying to empty his own commode pan. He did get to the toilet (a total miracle) but then fell into our closet. When I found him his was laying flat on his back in our walk-in closet holding the pan proudly in the air. When I saw him I burst out laughing, went and got Dana and after the three of us got over our hysterics, we got Rick up, scolded him and put him back in bed. He spent the entire day sleeping in bed and begged us not to make him get up. It was so painful to watch.
When the doctor came she examined Rick and then sat on the bed with all of us and talked to Rick about our options. In the end Richard agreed to bringing hospice in so that they could help us. It was a heart breaking conversation but we all agreed that we needed help. I was already experiencing significant arthritis pain. Even with our strong 26 year old son helping me, lifting a two hundred pound man has been really hard.
I am so sad…heartbroken. I am watching my husband change right before my eyes. I know that tomorrow a hospital bed will arrive. Last night was so painful because I sensed that it may be my last night of sleeping with my husband and our comfy big bed. He was so restless and uncomfortable throughout the night that now, I can’t wait until we get the hospital bed. It will be so much easier to help him get comfortable and to move him safely.
My grief is immense for all of us. Watching our children (my son will join us soon) and both of our families as they slowly accept where we are headed has been excruciating. Feeling Richard’s deterioration has been awful.
I also know that this is a blessed, holy time for Richard, myself and our families and friends….and want to honor it with as much grace as possible. We have all become witnesses to a holy transition and we are assisting Richard by caring for him, loving him and just being with him. I know he is constantly surrounded by angels....actually I feel them all around us. If you listen real carefully you can hear their soft voices, their melodies, their on-going rituals as they help Richard face this part of the journey.
I keep thanking him for letting us care and love him. I keep assuring him that he has done well....we are all doing O.K. by using his example. He has helped us gain wisdom and courage to do our holy work in tending to him. We are all touching him, holding him, spending time with him in bed. I believe we are all being intuitive as to what exactly needs to be done as the time passes. Tonight we all got in bed with him, including all three dogs....and held him as he snoozed and we all got silly. It was wonderful and Richard was so peaceful and happy.
Please pray for Richard...that he may remain peaceful and protected at this time. Please pray for all of us as we love him and care for him.
This has been a difficult post. but probably one of the most important. I love all of you. I feel you all embracing us...I can feel your warmth. Thank you for continuing to hold us close.
Blessings,
Sherri
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Rain Rain Go Away!!!
We've had such a busy few days. Richard's dear Father has been here and I've absolutely loved having him. There is something about watching a Father tend to his chldren that absolutely touches my heart. I can see, easily, where Richard gets his tender touch and his strength. Leo is a very special man.
We spent our days being busy...doing chores, making soft blankies for my children, playing cards, watching T.V. and all the flooding, cooking together and helping Richard whenever we could. Richard is sleeping alot now....and so Leo and I had some precious talks and beautiful time just being together.
Leo's wife, Angie, is very sick over in Wenatchee. She has been in Wenatchee in the hospital after weathering two surgerys where parts of her small and large intestine were removed. When Angie got stronger after her operations the doctors told Leo to go and visit his son. They felt that Angie was on the road to recovery. Can you imagine? A sick wife and a very ill son????? How horrible for this man. Angie is still facing a third, very serious, surgery where they will try and fix a main artery leading to her stomach which is blocked and interfering with proper digestion. However, this can't occur until she is stronger from these current situations. They have a rough road ahead...but we are all hopeful and believe that Angie is going to get better and be dancing again, with her gorgeous husband, very soon.
Last night, when Leo called his wife, she really wasn't feeling very well and he made the decision to return to Wenatchee. However, now all passes are closed because of the rain and flooding. He was so frustrated (we all were) and he decided to leave this afternoon to at least get down to Pam's in Everett so that the minute the passes open he can scoot across. Hopefully, tomorrow he will be able to return to the bedside of his beloved.
Meanwhile, today, Alex (my son) came over here from Orcas Island to have four wisdom teeth removed. YUK!!!! My poor baby!!! Thank you to my brother-in-law for taking Alex and I to the oral surgeon. It was a treat to be able to spend some uninterrupted time with Richard (yes, another Richard) and just talk while they were yanking Alex's teeth. Richard and I shared a very tender moment together when Alex started throwing up on the way out of the doctor's office...I ran for help while Richard helped Alex to the men's restroom. I will say no more other then GROSS and ACHE for Alex's miserableness. As Richard loaded us into the car...he actually was laughing and informed me that that little moment absolutely was not part of the deal!!!! Bless him for hanging in there with us.
For the rest of the day I was playing Nurse to both Alex and Richard. It felt absolutely perfect to be taking care of both of these men. When you love someone as much as I love Richard and my children, taking care of them is so easy and wonderful!!!! It's been a long time since I've gotten to take care of Alex. He is a big adult now...but when he's sick I think he was glad his Mommy was there. He was very sweet!!!
However, my plate became a little too full when Jamaica, our old, little dog (who is in doggie diapers because of constant peeing problems but is otherwise the picture of health) walked in from outside with poop everywhere!!!! I did start to cry a little at this point...feeling very sorry for myself...but I slapped myself around, took a deep breath and bathed and dried our little dog. Phew!!! Life can be amazing sometimes. And Phew!!! We can handle a lot when we put our mines to it!!! And YEAH...this evening he is smelling like lavender and vanilla. That's very nice.
I've been so down in my last few entries that I wanted to share a few thoughts that I have had. Richard and I are experiencing something that is so unique. Yes, it is the most heartbreaking thing I have ever experienced but at the same time I have learned so much and have been blessed in so many ways. Richard has chosen to keep fighting. That in itself is impressive. And I have the privilege of standing beside him in this fight. We treasure every moment. We touch, we hold hands...I'm never very far away in case he needs help standing or sitting or if he needs anything. I love helping him. I walk beside him as he moves through the house, making sure he's safe but also just loving the warmth I feel coming from his body. I watch him sleep. I watch him smile. I celebrate having him here with me and just our time together. This is blessed time. Even though he is sleeping more and more I treasure just being with him.
Tonight, after he went to bed, I stood outside with Mali, listening to the roar of our very full creek. It was beautiful out....I saw the moon for the first time in many days and I could sense the weather changing. As I stood there I felt this wonderful warmth melt all over me and I almost felt like I was glowing. It was an awesome moment...at first sort of scary/lonely but soon my heart and soul became very peaceful and I could take deep, nourishing breaths. It lasted for just a few moments...but it was very real. I don't know exactly what happened out there but I have my suspicions.
There are times with Richard when he feels very far away from me. He goes to a place that is totally separate from me. These moments use to terrify me. I would look at him and call his name and move in very close. I would touch him and ask him what he was thinking and usually he says either he doesn't know or that he was thinking absolutely nothing. Then I would jibber, jabber away....kiss him, hold his hand. He would be back with me and I would feel relief.
Well, I have learned and come to believe these moments are sacred time for Richard. I believe that it is at these moments that Richard (not consciously but on some plane) is surrounded by beautiful, loving angels. I think they are helping him, preparing him for the huge transition from this world to the afterlife. I've come to believe that these times are imperative and that this instruction from these holy beings is helping Richard gain wisdom, strength and courage for what lay ahead. I don't fear those times anymore and never try to bring him back to me. He must have this support now in order to maintain the immense peace that he has demonstrated throughout this whole experience.
Is it possible that tonight, as I let myself be quiet and still for just a moment, my own loving angels came and surrounded me and on some level gave me instruction, wisdom and courage to move through this experience also with peace? What a wonderful thought. I really don't know how to do this time now and I can't find clear instructions anywhere. But tonight I'm thinking that maybe I do it by allowing myself to just stop, be quiet and still and breathe. Maybe, just maybe, each of us will have our own holy beings that will be beside us, showing us the way........
Tonight I have found a little peace. It probably won't last for long and in my hyper-active way I may forget and I may feel frightened and horribly lost again. But tonight I have faith that remembering will come quickly. I will learn to just stop and be still and breathe and the way will become clear.
Love to all of you. Please continue to keep my beloved husband in your thoughts and prayers. He is still glowing and peaceful...I am so thankful for that.
Blessings,
Sherri
We spent our days being busy...doing chores, making soft blankies for my children, playing cards, watching T.V. and all the flooding, cooking together and helping Richard whenever we could. Richard is sleeping alot now....and so Leo and I had some precious talks and beautiful time just being together.
Leo's wife, Angie, is very sick over in Wenatchee. She has been in Wenatchee in the hospital after weathering two surgerys where parts of her small and large intestine were removed. When Angie got stronger after her operations the doctors told Leo to go and visit his son. They felt that Angie was on the road to recovery. Can you imagine? A sick wife and a very ill son????? How horrible for this man. Angie is still facing a third, very serious, surgery where they will try and fix a main artery leading to her stomach which is blocked and interfering with proper digestion. However, this can't occur until she is stronger from these current situations. They have a rough road ahead...but we are all hopeful and believe that Angie is going to get better and be dancing again, with her gorgeous husband, very soon.
Last night, when Leo called his wife, she really wasn't feeling very well and he made the decision to return to Wenatchee. However, now all passes are closed because of the rain and flooding. He was so frustrated (we all were) and he decided to leave this afternoon to at least get down to Pam's in Everett so that the minute the passes open he can scoot across. Hopefully, tomorrow he will be able to return to the bedside of his beloved.
Meanwhile, today, Alex (my son) came over here from Orcas Island to have four wisdom teeth removed. YUK!!!! My poor baby!!! Thank you to my brother-in-law for taking Alex and I to the oral surgeon. It was a treat to be able to spend some uninterrupted time with Richard (yes, another Richard) and just talk while they were yanking Alex's teeth. Richard and I shared a very tender moment together when Alex started throwing up on the way out of the doctor's office...I ran for help while Richard helped Alex to the men's restroom. I will say no more other then GROSS and ACHE for Alex's miserableness. As Richard loaded us into the car...he actually was laughing and informed me that that little moment absolutely was not part of the deal!!!! Bless him for hanging in there with us.
For the rest of the day I was playing Nurse to both Alex and Richard. It felt absolutely perfect to be taking care of both of these men. When you love someone as much as I love Richard and my children, taking care of them is so easy and wonderful!!!! It's been a long time since I've gotten to take care of Alex. He is a big adult now...but when he's sick I think he was glad his Mommy was there. He was very sweet!!!
However, my plate became a little too full when Jamaica, our old, little dog (who is in doggie diapers because of constant peeing problems but is otherwise the picture of health) walked in from outside with poop everywhere!!!! I did start to cry a little at this point...feeling very sorry for myself...but I slapped myself around, took a deep breath and bathed and dried our little dog. Phew!!! Life can be amazing sometimes. And Phew!!! We can handle a lot when we put our mines to it!!! And YEAH...this evening he is smelling like lavender and vanilla. That's very nice.
I've been so down in my last few entries that I wanted to share a few thoughts that I have had. Richard and I are experiencing something that is so unique. Yes, it is the most heartbreaking thing I have ever experienced but at the same time I have learned so much and have been blessed in so many ways. Richard has chosen to keep fighting. That in itself is impressive. And I have the privilege of standing beside him in this fight. We treasure every moment. We touch, we hold hands...I'm never very far away in case he needs help standing or sitting or if he needs anything. I love helping him. I walk beside him as he moves through the house, making sure he's safe but also just loving the warmth I feel coming from his body. I watch him sleep. I watch him smile. I celebrate having him here with me and just our time together. This is blessed time. Even though he is sleeping more and more I treasure just being with him.
Tonight, after he went to bed, I stood outside with Mali, listening to the roar of our very full creek. It was beautiful out....I saw the moon for the first time in many days and I could sense the weather changing. As I stood there I felt this wonderful warmth melt all over me and I almost felt like I was glowing. It was an awesome moment...at first sort of scary/lonely but soon my heart and soul became very peaceful and I could take deep, nourishing breaths. It lasted for just a few moments...but it was very real. I don't know exactly what happened out there but I have my suspicions.
There are times with Richard when he feels very far away from me. He goes to a place that is totally separate from me. These moments use to terrify me. I would look at him and call his name and move in very close. I would touch him and ask him what he was thinking and usually he says either he doesn't know or that he was thinking absolutely nothing. Then I would jibber, jabber away....kiss him, hold his hand. He would be back with me and I would feel relief.
Well, I have learned and come to believe these moments are sacred time for Richard. I believe that it is at these moments that Richard (not consciously but on some plane) is surrounded by beautiful, loving angels. I think they are helping him, preparing him for the huge transition from this world to the afterlife. I've come to believe that these times are imperative and that this instruction from these holy beings is helping Richard gain wisdom, strength and courage for what lay ahead. I don't fear those times anymore and never try to bring him back to me. He must have this support now in order to maintain the immense peace that he has demonstrated throughout this whole experience.
Is it possible that tonight, as I let myself be quiet and still for just a moment, my own loving angels came and surrounded me and on some level gave me instruction, wisdom and courage to move through this experience also with peace? What a wonderful thought. I really don't know how to do this time now and I can't find clear instructions anywhere. But tonight I'm thinking that maybe I do it by allowing myself to just stop, be quiet and still and breathe. Maybe, just maybe, each of us will have our own holy beings that will be beside us, showing us the way........
Tonight I have found a little peace. It probably won't last for long and in my hyper-active way I may forget and I may feel frightened and horribly lost again. But tonight I have faith that remembering will come quickly. I will learn to just stop and be still and breathe and the way will become clear.
Love to all of you. Please continue to keep my beloved husband in your thoughts and prayers. He is still glowing and peaceful...I am so thankful for that.
Blessings,
Sherri
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Hello Friends!
I find myself putting off posting because I don't know exactly what to say. It's been a very tough few weeks....I am sososo tired and I am so heartbroken. I want to be positive and upbeat...but I just can't be. I'm sorry that I have to come here with such a heavy heart...but I know that many of you want an update. I haven't found a chunk of time where I am breathing freely; where I can share hope and a positive spirit. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought that we would be at this place so soon...but I guess that this is an important part of the journey. When we started this experience I promised Richard that I would be faithful to this blog....I don't think I ever imagined that the time would come when it would become so difficult to share, with honesty, what this part of a very challenging road.
Richard had his first session of chemotherapy on Monday, December 29th. The infusion itself went smoothly. We reaffirmed with our doctor our desire to fight this monster called glioblastoma. Richard clearly stated that each additional day with his family and friends is worth this chemo regime. I agree totally with him. I am positive we are doing the right thing.
Richard continues to seem very weak physically. I don't know if it is the new chemo or if it is the tumor profression. I feel so powerless and frustrated at times. I can't make any of this better and my heart aches for him. He is in bed most of the day...He gets up for a while but tires quickly and needs to return to the comfort of laying down. He is shuffling badly and is having to have help getting up and down from a laying or sitting position. The doctor suggested that we get a walker for him (that was a hard day for all of us) and usually I am either walking with him or he is using his walker to move from one place to another. His speech is much quieter and is slurred...usually worse when he is tired. I think he is often confused...and when he is very tired he seems to slip into his own world. He often seems so far away.
He and I are handling the physical part without any problem. But for me the most difficult time is when I can't seem to reach him and when I realize that our partnership is changing rapidly. I get so frightened...almost panicky....eventhough I feel as though I have been prepared for this period in this journey....I never anticipated how badly it would hurt. I never knew I had so many tears to shed. I never knew how frantic I could feel...so powerless to change what is happening. And....sadly....I feel so alone. Eventhough we have so much support...no one can possibly understand my anguish unless they have traveled a road where they have lost a loved one.
Richard seems at peace with all that is happening. He has gotten to the point of total acceptance...his only distress that is expressed is when he sees me or his children struggling with our sadness. I always assure him that sadness is OK and that we are OK...and most importantly.....we will be OK. Struggling and sadness is a huge part of this journey and its important to let it happen. We are all learning to grieve and it is an essential lesson. Once we talk for a while he calms down and relaxes again. He continues to tell us, over and over again, that he is not frightened...and that he is giving the chemo space to work and yet accepting the seriousness of where his disease is at. He continues to be our hero in so many ways. His courage is absolutely amazing and gives us all such pride. His example gives us all such strength.
I want you all to know that eventhough it is easy to look into the future, to worry and fret....We are all still focusing on living each moment to the fullest and remembering the preciousness of this time together. Our home is so full of love...everyone talks about how "homey and warm" it feels....we hug everyone, all of us sit close together and touch...hold hands, listen intently and look into each others eyes, take time to let our breaths come together in a strong rhythym. We laugh and we cry...but in an amazing way...it feels so real....and we all know that something special is happening here....our job has become one of witnessing.....and often standing in awe.
I have come to learn and believe that at those times when Richard feels so far away from me I am watching a "holy time" for him. I've read that it is at these times that people who are seriously ill are surrounded by spiritual guides or angels who are assisting them in their preparation to transition from this world to another. These guides are there to assure and comfort and to give understanding to something that is so difficult to grasp in our earthly world. This explanation has helped me to let this time between us just "be" and eventhough it is so hard....I fight trying to bring him back to a place of relating to me. It is horribly sad for me...but at the same time I find myself sitting in awe...wishing I could join him but knowing that this part of the journey is only for him...a very private time of comfort and faith.
One more thing....At night I find myself laying very close to Richard....spooning....with either my arm around him or with his arm around me, especially when we first go to sleep. I take time to feel the way our bodies fit perfectly together and I always hold his beautiful hand. I feel his breath and his warmth and I see us surrounded in a glowing light. My heart is full at these times and I often have tears in my eyes. I lay there for a long time...silently and perfectly still...soaking in these intense moments. I truly feel so horribly sad and frightened when my heart knows in such a deep way that laying with my beautiful husband will not go on forever. I'm already aching with the anticipation of not being held by him, It is such a deep loss..I didn't know I could "feel" so intently.
There's so many other things I should mention.....but for now this is enough. I must go and try to sleep. Thank you for all the wonderful support. We hold you all very close.
Blessinngs,
Sherri
Richard had his first session of chemotherapy on Monday, December 29th. The infusion itself went smoothly. We reaffirmed with our doctor our desire to fight this monster called glioblastoma. Richard clearly stated that each additional day with his family and friends is worth this chemo regime. I agree totally with him. I am positive we are doing the right thing.
Richard continues to seem very weak physically. I don't know if it is the new chemo or if it is the tumor profression. I feel so powerless and frustrated at times. I can't make any of this better and my heart aches for him. He is in bed most of the day...He gets up for a while but tires quickly and needs to return to the comfort of laying down. He is shuffling badly and is having to have help getting up and down from a laying or sitting position. The doctor suggested that we get a walker for him (that was a hard day for all of us) and usually I am either walking with him or he is using his walker to move from one place to another. His speech is much quieter and is slurred...usually worse when he is tired. I think he is often confused...and when he is very tired he seems to slip into his own world. He often seems so far away.
He and I are handling the physical part without any problem. But for me the most difficult time is when I can't seem to reach him and when I realize that our partnership is changing rapidly. I get so frightened...almost panicky....eventhough I feel as though I have been prepared for this period in this journey....I never anticipated how badly it would hurt. I never knew I had so many tears to shed. I never knew how frantic I could feel...so powerless to change what is happening. And....sadly....I feel so alone. Eventhough we have so much support...no one can possibly understand my anguish unless they have traveled a road where they have lost a loved one.
Richard seems at peace with all that is happening. He has gotten to the point of total acceptance...his only distress that is expressed is when he sees me or his children struggling with our sadness. I always assure him that sadness is OK and that we are OK...and most importantly.....we will be OK. Struggling and sadness is a huge part of this journey and its important to let it happen. We are all learning to grieve and it is an essential lesson. Once we talk for a while he calms down and relaxes again. He continues to tell us, over and over again, that he is not frightened...and that he is giving the chemo space to work and yet accepting the seriousness of where his disease is at. He continues to be our hero in so many ways. His courage is absolutely amazing and gives us all such pride. His example gives us all such strength.
I want you all to know that eventhough it is easy to look into the future, to worry and fret....We are all still focusing on living each moment to the fullest and remembering the preciousness of this time together. Our home is so full of love...everyone talks about how "homey and warm" it feels....we hug everyone, all of us sit close together and touch...hold hands, listen intently and look into each others eyes, take time to let our breaths come together in a strong rhythym. We laugh and we cry...but in an amazing way...it feels so real....and we all know that something special is happening here....our job has become one of witnessing.....and often standing in awe.
I have come to learn and believe that at those times when Richard feels so far away from me I am watching a "holy time" for him. I've read that it is at these times that people who are seriously ill are surrounded by spiritual guides or angels who are assisting them in their preparation to transition from this world to another. These guides are there to assure and comfort and to give understanding to something that is so difficult to grasp in our earthly world. This explanation has helped me to let this time between us just "be" and eventhough it is so hard....I fight trying to bring him back to a place of relating to me. It is horribly sad for me...but at the same time I find myself sitting in awe...wishing I could join him but knowing that this part of the journey is only for him...a very private time of comfort and faith.
One more thing....At night I find myself laying very close to Richard....spooning....with either my arm around him or with his arm around me, especially when we first go to sleep. I take time to feel the way our bodies fit perfectly together and I always hold his beautiful hand. I feel his breath and his warmth and I see us surrounded in a glowing light. My heart is full at these times and I often have tears in my eyes. I lay there for a long time...silently and perfectly still...soaking in these intense moments. I truly feel so horribly sad and frightened when my heart knows in such a deep way that laying with my beautiful husband will not go on forever. I'm already aching with the anticipation of not being held by him, It is such a deep loss..I didn't know I could "feel" so intently.
There's so many other things I should mention.....but for now this is enough. I must go and try to sleep. Thank you for all the wonderful support. We hold you all very close.
Blessinngs,
Sherri
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